The perfect trade
by erieANNA
Summary: "It's not about the money, it's about the game." A game Samuel had been taught so well, that he didn't realize he was nothing more than his dad's pawn. It was a dangerous game of money, power and greed; it had no problem with chewing you up and leaving you for dead. It was that, Samuel wanted to get out of when he found her, but was it too late for Sam and Mercedes?
1. Chapter 1

_****__**Hey all =) A quick note to those that may have not read the "prequel" to this story. They are the last two chapters in Name the time and place story as this chapter is what happens next. You may not have to read the other two since everything significant to the story starts here in this chapter. I really wanted to write this out, it is loosely based on the movie W2, money never sleeps but I've switch somethings around. Expect smut (esp. if you read the first two parts lol), angst, and more angst lol.**_

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_**The aftermath.**_

"Uhh—what the hell did we just walk into? Santana don't step right there, yep that's chocolate syrup." Kurt pushed pass Santana to walk into the once tidy bedroom—the room he designed from top to bottom.

"Do we need to see the rest of the house?" Santana picked up a piece of lace fabric from the floor—eyeing the texture. Her expression was beyond tickled when she realized what she was holding use to be. "Wanky. .." Santana elbowed Kurt in his side, who was eyeing the scattered feathers on the floor.

"Oh, god.. . You guys excuse our mess of a bedroom." Mercedes walked over to her closet—finding a quick pair of sweats and a t-shirt, she made her way around the room picking up little things they had thrown.

Kurt was still tickled just stood and watched—he was in awe of the couple and was happy they would be getting their happy ending after so much chaos. However, Santana's phone went off and the serene feelings were quickly thrown out of the window.

"Lopez, speaking.. ..—Well can you stop the pictures from being released? Then why the fuck are we even talking right now, my client specifically asked for no pictures to be taken at the wedding ceremony and what you are saying to me right now is that you did not come through on your end of the deal we made. Consider the deposit cancelled, your services are no longer needed. Goodbye."

Santana ended the call, shooting Kurt a knowing look of frustration—they both stood in silence just waiting for the diva to get ready for the day. This was the part they both dreaded, the aftermath.

Kurt knew what he was getting himself into when he decided to plan the wedding for Mercedes and Sam—he was happy to do so even if he had to go under the radar to plan most of it, making sure nothing was to escape to the media. Santana and him had to work extremely close pulling favors from big names to make sure things were taken care of and that no one caught wind of the small ceremony in east London.

The media would absolutely go crazy over the two names involved and not to mention the stories that could spin from it would make Santana's job hell for months—however they were even more afraid of the wrath of Sam's father and both Mercedes parents.

They expected things to get nasty between the two families, but they thought they had time to easily transcend the idea of a union of the Evans and Jones families—but somehow pictures were leaked of the bride and groom, People Magazine reported.

Mercedes entered the room fully dressed, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail—a Yankee's baseball cap on her head. She saw the annoyed expressions on both Santana and Kurt's faces and quickly caught on.

"Do you think my parent's have found out yet?" Mercedes asked Santana grabbing a small duffle bag off her vanity—she started taking some clothes out of her closet to place inside.

"It's a little before noon, I'm sure papa Jones has seen the pictures personally by now—I'll be expecting an ear full from Mrs. Jones shortly." Santana checked her email for the second time since she had been there, and as if on cue both Kurt and Santana's phones went off.

"Don't worry I will take care of everything, diva, but we have to get you down to the UK Vogue shoot pronto and you still have the studio session today." Santana walked in tow with Kurt out of the bedroom, heading for the two black surburbans parked out front.

Moreover, Mercedes was starting to feel it, the impending chaos of her life decisions came to her full force, though she would not do anything different, she could not help but wish she didn't have to go on such an extreme route. She knew she could handle it, the media that is, but Mercedes didn't want to think about what her father would say more less do.

She thought about the last thing she told him before running off to jump on a plane to London, ready to wed her long time secret boyfriend Samuel David Evans. Six long years she waited for her father to come around and accept the fact that she was in love with Sam—an Evan's, a scoundrel, her father would say; but she could not even fathom what her mother would think.

"Baby, are you alright?"

Mercedes startled out of her thoughts dropped the last of her things into her duffle bag, zipping it up she shot Sam a quick smile that didn't exactly reach her eyes. He was well aware of it.

"Mercy don't lock me out. What's bothering you. ..is it the pictures because I can take care of that. I will see personally that the resort be closed permanently at your words, the asshole that took the pictures will be dealt with.. ." Mercedes ran over to catch his lips in a quick kiss—stopping him mid sentence.

"I was just thinking about my parents is all," Samuel sighed accordingly at her words, he had a feeling this would effect her more than it would him—she was so close with her parents, he was almost envious of their relationship. He could not empathize entirely, but he took it upon himself most of the blame in the decision to get married in London and so hastily. Mercedes sensed he was still a bit angry about the apparent breach in security, and a few kisses later Mercedes had found herself pressed against the wall, her legs wrapped around Sam's middle—she reached and grabbed a handful of his ass.

He was gone, it was like they had been on pause from earlier that morning in the kitchen and Mercedes had just pressed play—one hand planted firmly on the wall beside Mercedes' head, Sam bucked his pelvis into hers to still her movement. Parting from her lips for air, he tipped the hat she wore up off her head and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"You're gonna be late. .."

"So, I don't care." Her tone dripped with certainty and arousal, as she tried to catch her breath. Her fingers gripped his backside tighter.

"Don't tempt me Mrs. Evans. I don't take teasing to well, especially when I have you like this."

He eyed her form down, his hips still pressed against hers.

They both shared a few more quick kisses before Sam was off to take a shower, and Mercedes was on her way out to her magazine shoot.

Even if it was small intimate moment, that actually got her out of the funk she was feeling, and she even felt like today would be okay, _good even_ though their secret escaped to he media—on the bright side her mom and dad were thousands of miles away, _what could they do?_

While entering one of the suv's that Santana occupied, Mercedes checked her email. She released a shaky breath when she saw the email address. .evans.

She really thought today would be a good day, and nothing would ruin her high of her and Sam's nuptials—but seeing that name annoyed her.

_You really think it was that simple taking my son off to the UK to elope, as if we don't keep tabs on him. I suppose I did not make myself clear the last time we met—I'm not going to just stand by and let you have this illusion of a happy ending you seem to want with my son. I really wish you would have just taken the deal I proposed earlier and things would not have to come to this. Understand this now, this marriage will be annulled and I will rid Samuel of you Miss. Jones, mock my words. Enjoy him while you can._

Mercedes scowled at the empty meaningless threat, and deleted the email after reading the last five words over again in her head. She wouldn't let Sam's mother controlling behavior stir her emotions right now—the thought of her actually going up against her was funny itself, but when they were to go back to the states what were they to come back to?

What had they started?

Mercedes turned off her phone, tuning into the conversation Santana and Kurt were having on the speaker and busied herself with finalizing the plans she had tonight—a dinner with all her close friends. She then decided she would focus on the present, her and Sam were here—together now

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**His mother will continue to be a bitch, sorry but that's just a heads up. lol Please leave reviews and let me know if you're interested, I promise things do get better and more interesting.**


	2. The wrath of Dwayne M Jones

_I just wanted to say I truly love the support I get from you guys, I checked my email this morning and saw all alerts and etc. Thanks for taking the time out to read yet another one of my creations. I really hope I don't ever let you guys down because I have so much planned out for this fic. And ashley I fully understand, this fic was suppose to be just a bunch of random smut filled drabbles to get me through the bs that is glee, but somehow I started writing and this happened, I will try my best to capture the romance because there will be big amount of drama. _

_I'm gonna stop there and just let you all read the next chapter lol. -Anna_

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_**The wrath of Dwayne M. Jones.**_

"Rachel !"

"Yes, Mr. Evans sir?" The slender brunette quickly entered the boardroom of the Fabray-Evans investment bank. She nervously smoothed out her plaid pencil skirt with one hand, and clenched tightly in her other was a clipboard with all of today's notes from the last board meeting. She quickly noted the pained expression on her boss's face and thought of two possible causes—a market deal went sour meaning no new clients and less money for him to take in or his son Samuel did something again to piss him off. Rachel thought of the latter choice.

"I need you to make sure the Evan's private plane is to be stocked and fully loaded by the time I come back from lunch with my…partner—can you handle that Ms. Berry?" His tone was laced with annoyance, a tone he frequently took with her as manners were not his thing to display to anyone that didn't have the last name Evan's or Fabray, or potential investor. She swallowed down the bitter distaste, and smiled briefly.

"Yes sir, I'll get on it immediately." She wanted to comment on his usage of the word partner, meaning one of his many women that were not his wife—she wanted to let her tongue slip to rip him a new one, but this job paid her tuition for NYADA. His personal downfall was his problem.

She nodded her head accordingly, giving him another fake smile. "Will that be all, Mr. Evans?" She clicked her pen, ready to take in a few more notes on what specific things he wanted to find on the plane.

"What the fuck has my son gotten himself into? That is our competition. ..is he out of his damn mind!"

"Don't worry honey, I will go straighten him out and bring his narrow ass back here. .."

Rachel closed the door behind her, dismissing herself to her duties—she heard Mr. Evans on the phone with his wife. Indeed Rachel was right, again.

* * *

Sam ignored them all. The calls, emails, and deleted the voicemails he presumed were from his father and mother. He quickly scanned through his text messages when he saw a few from his friends Mike and Rory, and one from Artie—the director whom was turning his comic into a movie on the big screen.

"Tina and I will be at this dinner. We fully support you two." Sam smiled at his friend kind words, Mike would always be the lucky one—he was able to get away from his father's tight grip, and be happy with his wife Tina of two years. Sam wanted to have that with Mercedes, to be away from the power and greed of his father's company—he did not want the control his father tried to force upon him.

"Dude, I'm so there. Thanks for the invite." Sam was a bit wary of his growing friendship with Artie—due to the fact he made it distinctly obvious he had eyes for his wife. Though Mercedes wrote it off as a cute harmless crush, Sam would never fully give into that notion.

Once he got ready for the day, he headed to his small production company eager to finalize the last few deals for his comic to be the next movie directed by Artie Abrams. He was genuinely shocked one of his comics had made such a stir in the comic world, but this was one of his goals for himself—he was slowly but surely making a name for himself away from his father's empire.

It was that, that put a smile on his face today, along with knowing his wife would be at home waiting for him in a few hours—he was inspired to get some work done.

He greeted his long time partner and friend Noah Puckerman already at work at his desk on the specifics of the costume designs. Sam found himself looking over the finished work in complete awe of the detailed colored sketches and 3d models of their work come to life.

"Wife already got you coming in late?" Noah spoke on a hunch, casting Sam a jokingly smile.

"We were both off to a…brisk start today." The two shared a knowing glance before busying themselves again.

"Honeymoon stage already…" Puck laughed while sketching a final draft.

After finalizing more costume models and sending them off to the art department, Sam found himself staring at him and his wife's face on the wide screen in his office.

It was official, word had got out about their wedding and the speculation was starting.

"It seems the rumors are true, Sam Evans, son of Samuel D. Evans Sr. was speculated to have been in London this past week with rumored girlfriend Mercedes Jones, daughter of Dwayne Jones. Although either involved party gave no initial word, photos have been surfacing on the net recently of the two at a small ceremony out in east London. It has been confirmed by an inside source the two were there previously to exchange vows at the Chateau de Chisay, and are now living in a small villa out in central London."

Another television station had it as breaking news.

"Does this mean a peace calling is in order for the two known enemies, the father's of both involved—or is this a simple publicity stunt to throw off the accusations of insider trading at the Fabray-Evans' company. No evidence was found to tie Mr. Fabray and Mr. Evans to the mix up of numbers in the company's records, but a jury will decide later this month if the case needs to be further investigated. For now it is known that Mercedes and Sam are in fact in central London tonight together—we wish them the best, E-News reports."

"I saw this coming. ..I didn't think it would happen so soon, but I saw this coming." Sam spat back at the television, right before they reported more coverage was to come. He got that feeling, of doing something extremely reckless, but he thought of Mercedes and pushed aside that burning feeling to do something, say anything to get everyone off of their backs. It wasn't like he didn't have the money to make a few things disappear, Sam immediately cursed himself at his father's trait—he didn't want to be like that, let money rule him.

Puck tried his best to keep Sam's attention from the television—even turning it off seemed to be pointless once the crowd of paparazzi started to grow outside of the building—Puck knew something was about to happen. They knew something was coming.

In only a few hours, Sam would leave to meet up with his wife at their home and head off to a nice quiet dinner with their friends—and he tried to let that keep him leveled.

That was until Puck spotted the approaching white vehicle, even if they were five stories up in the air—Noah knew the Evan's crest when he saw it. Sam's father had come to town, and from the look of frustration on his face—his wife was with him as well.

"Uhh, dude. I hate to bother you but Mommy and Daddy dearest are here."

"What? That's impossible, I would have known the minute he stepped on a plane." Sam looked out of the large window, taking in the vehicles parked below.

He was instantly annoyed, and a bit thrown off that his father would actually leave work in New York to chase him to the UK. His father never left work, nothing was never that important to him to do so.

"Fuck it, I'm going. I can't deal with his bullshit, not today." Sam took his blazer off a nearby coat rack and on cue Noah was waiting arms folded at the second elevator on their private work floor—helping him escape his parents' impending wrath.

He was able to pass by unseen by the crowd of squandering _paps_, to make a quick exit from the back closed off parking lot—however he walked right into the sight of his mother, her eyes filled with seething rage.

That got a smile out of him.

"Samuel David Evans Jr. explain to me why I have to find out you've wed this—this woman—a fucking Jones! Are you insane! Do you know—" His mother bit her tongue at the anger spilling from her tone. She did not realize she was this angry until she caught wind of the smirk on her son's face—it infuriated her.

Her husband stepped in between the two, shooting Sam a hard menacing stare—Sam could feel the venom seeping through his pupils. "Come with us." Was all his father said before turning away to pull his wife back to the suv parked outside the building.

"Hmm. ..I would love to, but I'm meeting my wife for dinner soon—it's kind of special." His sarcastic dry tone, stilled his father's feet to the ground his jaw clenched tightly at the use of the word wife.

"I don't give a flying FUCK—" His father stopped mid-sentence and lowered his voice, when he caught the eyes of few bystanders. He spoke more slowly and quietly to his son.

"I don't give a fuck what you have planned with her, you **will** leave with your mother and I. Understand?" Sam grinned again, but he figured he could humor them for a while before setting them both straight about how things would be from now on.

He straightened himself, before walking behind his mother and father out into the frenzy of the paparazzi just waiting for a piece of information on him. Sam took out his phone to dial Mercedes, telling her of his whereabouts and to give her quick warning of what her parents might try.

"Papers are already being drawn to have the marriage annulled, I would like to thank you Samuel for putting your mother and me through this catastrophe—while I am being investigated for possible fraud." Sr. Evan scoffed at his son, who seemed to be paying more attention to his phone in his lap.

"Are you talking to that floozy? Tell her, her time is dwindling down Sammy." And for the first time, his eyes really took in his mother—his jaw tighten at her words toward Mercedes, and with all his strength he tried to hold his tongue out of respect.

"I am talking to **my wife**, mother. Don't think I will sit here and let you disrespect her that way—matter of fact don't you ever let me hear you speak of her that way." He tried to sound detached, to melt the ice in his words.

She only grimaced, with a roll of her eyes to let his father continue.

"How much?" His father asked, he looked focused for a minute his eyes never leaving his iphone.

"How much what?

"Fine, I'll humor you.. .to make her disappear, what else would I fucking be talking about? How much to get rid of her?" His father pressed a button to raise up a tinted window in the middle of the vehicle separating the driver from the back seats.

All the strength Sam had, completely left him.

"Stop the car—stop the damn car!" Sam knocked on the dividing window, causing the vehicle to come to a screeching halt.

He opened the door to shoot his father another cold glare before exploding.

"I don't want your motherfucking money—And I suggest you two, to accept the fact that we are married and I will be doing my damn best to make sure it fucking stays that way. Is that understood? I don't give shit about your company and your precious money—take that shit and go back to fucking New York." The building frustration, and anger was boiling over, he raked his fingers through his hair before gripping the trucks' door tightly.

"I don't want anything to do with you two, and so help me god if you try to mess with Mercedes in anyway—I will make it my life plan to see that they find evidence against you—I will fucking destroy the one thing you truly love." His seething eyes shot back to his mother.

"Your fucking company." And with that he slammed the door, already in a brisk walk back to his building. He tried to breath through his nose, to return the peace, serene feeling he had this morning in his office; he just needed to hear his wife's voice.

* * *

"This EP needs to be done today, next week we just won't have time to finish it—with the album photo shoot and last minute edits." Santana dragged her fingers across the papers in front of her—listening to Mercedes in the recording booth.

She kept stopping the recording session today, when her phone felt the need to ring every other second—she immediately regretted turning it on after the magazine shoot. She still had not returned any calls from her mother or father, and tried her best to stay away from the news stations and gossip magazines. She declined all interviews and appearances, as well. She wanted to focus on her album, but these last few tracks were becoming harder to finish. Everything was happening so fast, the pictures leaking, the talks of a video surfacing of the wedding, Mercedes was starting to feel it all come down on her.

Everything that was once in the dark, about her life was now in the open for everyone to see. For everyone to criticize.

She looked at the four carat Ashoka white gold diamond ring on her finger, and was instantly reassured her decision was a good one. Mercedes found her love, and she would enjoy it.

"I'm ready to finish this track." Santana fist pumped the air and Mercedes already in a fit of giggles basked in her newly found confidence. Just thinking about what all they went through to end up there together, gave her the strength she needed.

Once the work was done, and she was about to leave, already ten minutes late for her dinner with Sam she quickly gathered her belongings to meet Santana in the hallway. She caught a few words that were said and even stopped in her tracks when she recognized the voice that relayed them.

"Daa—Daddy, what are you doing here? Where's mom?" Mercedes adjusted the duffle bag on her shoulder already noting the look of disappointment on her father's face. Santana stepped aside to let her mother walk around to stand in front of Mercedes—her face pained with the same expression, but more hurt than anything. It took everything in Mercedes not to give into the aching feeling in her chest.

"Cedes baby, what is this I'm seeing? You're married now, to that Evan's boy?" She took out a stack a pictures and grabbed Mercedes hand to see the rock on her finger was indeed real. Mercedes briefly looked toward Santana, and presumed the photos she held were the leaked photos of their wedding.

She didn't say anything, just looking back and forth between her parent faces. Her silence infuriated her father.

"I'm going to give you a chance to explain yourself, Cedes. Please choose your words wisely." Her father already gone from zero to one hundred, made his way into the recording room, that Mercedes was just in, resting upon the wall he wanted to be sure he listened very carefully to her words.

Mercedes mother dismissed Santana with a quick scowl and shove, Mercedes internally cringed and shot her an apologetic look.

"Don't dare bring Santana into this mom." She pleaded.

"I have a feeling she helped with this, this wedding and for that I will never forget." Debra closed the door behind Santana.

"I'm waiting, Mercedes. Start explaining this." His voice silenced any oncoming protest from Mercedes and halted her to the ground shaking.

And she did tell them everything from the beginning of how she had to hide her relationship from everyone around her—for six long years. She admitted that both her and Sam were tired and realized they didn't need their parent's permission to be happy. _It was wanted, not required_, Sam would tell her.

Mercedes watched her father, shake his head in anger, his thoughts of Sam only growing darker with each word she spoke. She noticed the dark glint in his eyes only appeared when she spoke of her husband's name.

She quickly wiped away the few tears and just watched her dad take in the information accordingly. She really wanted her mother to just wrap her arms around her and tell her everything would be okay—but the pained look she wore made her want to disappear.

"You seem to have proved my idea of Samuel just now, Mercedes. Of every Evan's I've come across, they are nothing but greedy, manipulative, lying animals and I will **not** let this marriage go on for another day." His voice rose in anger, his fist balled tightly to the sides of him.

"He's poison to you Mercedes, whether you see it or not. Causing you to lie to our faces constantly—sneaking behind our backs, making you run off like this. I will never accept him into this family. **Never.**"

"And you do it again, daddy. Stop putting all the blame on Sam—I was there with him, I agreed to keep us a secret—I wanted to come here with him. We both made the decisions together. Me and Sam both knew neither of you would ever get behind this—all the arguing, and plotting would only come back to one thing—the money, and we don't want any part of that lifestyle—not anymore."

She noted her father wincing at her words, like they were physical blows to him. The room fell silent for much longer than Mercedes had liked—they went back and forth of what Mercedes was suppose to do and oblige to since he decided to let her do this singing career.

"Everything I've given you, Mercedes." He started again, rising to his feet—he made sure she heard his words clearly from there on. "Everything I have done for you to have this.. ." His voice was cold and it even made Debra shiver. Dwayne motioned the room around him.

"I made sure you had anything and everything to follow your dreams, even after you turned down the job I offered you in the family company. I gave you what ever you needed to pursue your dreams. For you to do such a thing like this to your family, your flesh and blood."

Mercedes sniffles grew louder, as her father pointed to the pictures of her and Sam.

"To have this thrown in my face, the one man that wants nothing more than to see me, your father flat on his ass—back in Lima, without a pot to piss in. I worked my ass off for years so you can have everything. EVERYTHING MERCEDES! And you do this to me." Mercedes jumped at his outburst, before breaking into a new set of tears, her mother held out a hand to her daughter, but Dwayne stopped her.

He inhaled deeply before rubbing the sudden oncoming of tension out of his temples, he could not bare to look at his daughter now.

"Mercedes, baby we love you, but this marriage is wrong. The way you went about it was wrong. If you had just come and talk to us. .." Her mother tried to chime in.

"WRONG, UH YEAH IT'S FUCKING WRONG ALRIGHT!" Dwayne interrupted her, he began pacing the floor around Mercedes.

And Mercedes found herself exhausted of the situation, she found it exhausting that they still did not see it.

"I TRIED COMING TO YOU—countless times I have tried coming to you about me and Sam. And what did you do dad? You forbid me to see him again. We didn't have a talk about it, you fucking forbid me to see him again, like it was so simple." Mercedes stopped herself, and tried her best to recollect and calm herself—but she was just so tired of everything.

"You always bring it up, how you gave me everything—the money for the vocal lessons, the studio sessions. I didn't want any of it! I wanted to do this, pursue my dreams on my own—I never asked or begged for my father's money."

"So I was wrong to help you, my only daughter, is that it?" Her father narrowed his eyes at her, and she chuckled at his words.

"You only did it to keep me away from him, you knew how I was feeling—what I wanted from you—and you tried to busy me with the contracts, and sessions. You wanted me to go to California so I could get away from him, didn't you?"

It was Dwayne's turn to laugh, his sight snapped back to his wife as he made his way towards the door.

"We will fix this, Debra. Tell your daughter if she wants to fix this I'll be waiting in the car for her—where we will be on the first plane out of here back to New York. Tell her she better choose quickly—before I go find a certain blond." He snapped, slamming the door shut behind him.

Mercedes couldn't hold it in anymore—the scream she had been holding in from all of today's events had finally taken its toll on her. Her hands balled to her side, she let it out, the scream that made her mother break down and rush to hold her. Mercedes had finally lost it.

She watched her mother take her duffel bag from her shoulder and walk over to the door.

"Are you coming?" She asked, her voice just above a whisper.

She couldn't say anything at that moment—already an hour late meeting Sam, she just sat there staring at her hands in her lap.

Mercedes jumped again when she heard the ringer of her phone go off—signaling that it was Sam calling her to see what kept her. She quickly looked at the many texts from her friends asking of her whereabouts.

_Diva, where in the hell are you? –Kurt_

_Is everything alright, Santana just text'd me? –Tina_

_Baby, please answer your phone, are your parents there? –Sam_

_Cedes, I tried wait for you, and I'm going to tell Sam what has happened. –Santana_

She wiped away her tears, immediately started to write something on her phone—when she was sure it was sent she quickly turned off the phone placing it in her pocket.

"**Mom! Wait for me, wait!**" She ran out of the building in search of her father's suv. Mercedes took one look back at the studio before taking a seat beside her mother in the back. She wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug.

"I knew you would make the right choice. baby .." Debra kissed her daughters cheek, the truck immediately off to the airport.

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**Don't hate me, please review! I'm curious to see if some people are team dwayne and see his way of reasoning, oh and rayray2007, Mercedes will definitely be taking on Sam's mother.**


	3. Lost one

**_I know most of yall were beyond pissed at Mercedes for leaving, but I wanted to make a distinct difference in Sam and Mercedes-To her family is everything and Mercedes and her father have a tight bond, which you will learn why and how later on in the story. It's pointed out that Sam doesn't have that in the beginning, which is a main focus in this chapter. I thank everyone who continues to read this story. _**

* * *

_**Lost one.**_

_Give my love to everyone, I will not be making it there tonight. And before you take in what I am saying I will already be on a plane heading back to New York, tonight. I just need to talk to him, once he calms down—please understand what I am doing, and I will talk to you soon. Love you. –MJ_

His heart almost stopped at the words. _I will already be on a plane back to New York._ His throat constricted with fear of what this meant for him—for their future.

Sam tried to stop it, he really did try to stop the monster that he once was from coming out to make an appearance—but after trashing the restaurant's private room, and punching a few walls he figured it was beyond too late to try.

The person his father worked hard to create and instill in him—that person wanted to come out and rear his ugly head. _How dare he take her from me?_

Once outside, he tried calming down before engaging in another outburst of rage. He wanted to do something, anything to make everything disappear, his history, the mistakes—but Mercedes would come to mind as she always did when these sudden urges came to him. She was the one thing in his life that kept that person at bay—she kept him on his toes, another reason why he loved her so much. She brought out the person he wanted to be.

The thought of her on a plane to New York almost broke him—he never once realized his luck would be so bad today. The only good moment was when he was with her at their home.

Sam realized just then he had been crying, and his hand was bleeding, he winced when he tried to move his fingers.

* * *

Mercedes realized after the two weeks she had been back in New York, her father would need more time to calm down from her recent marriage. He did not even look in her direction or even waste his breath to talk to her.

Anything he had to say to her, was said through her mother and sometimes if her brother were by to visit—he would relay messages as well. Mercedes sometimes found herself wondering, why she decided to get on that plane if things were going to be like this.

She wanted to be right there when he finally was to calm down, and she would talk to him again—this time hoping the conversation wouldn't end with her crying and her father's yelling. She wanted to be able to talk to him, about how wrong his idea of Sam really was—she wanted him to see what she saw in him.

But with each day that passed, her desire to do so was fading—and today she decided was her last attempt to make progress because if he refused, Mercedes would make that tough decision to leave his life for good.

She found herself smiling at the little pieces of Sam she did have. Everyday he would send two messages of, I love you and I miss you. She wanted to reply but what would she say? _You were right I do not need the approval of my dad, and if he cannot accept the fact that I am happy, then the hell with it. He is never going to understand what we went through, and he most certainly is not going to ever like you as long as your last name is Evans._

Mercedes pushed away the thoughts and jumped to her feet when she saw her dad's car pull up in the driveway—she was in the kitchen making lunch, her mother's plan.

She tried to find the necessary strength, just hoping she would leave NY today with her father's blessing. _It was wanted, not needed_; Mercedes took Sam's advice.

* * *

Kurt was back in his New York office, finishing the last touches to his fall clothing collection. He was able to find some inspiration on his way back from London, and wanted to make sure everything went smoothly while he was away.

He was a young fashion icon, in the making—soon his name would reign over New York permanently planting his name in the fashion world. Kurt was determined to make a name for himself—he was going to show every person that bullied or doubted him, that he was going to make them eat their words.

After giving the green light to his new line, _e`tre belle_, Kurt found himself staring at his idle phone on his desk. He had gotten word of what Mercedes was up to and was waiting for her call—waiting to know what her next move was.

He wanted to believe Mr. Jones would eventually see that the love Mercedes and Sam have is real, and did not start out as a fatal attraction—Kurt was there to witness the love struck eyes of Sam once he spotted Mercedes, at the Auberry Gala Ball—six years ago. Kurt watched the two fall deeper in love and he could only wait and hope, he found the same.

However Kurt knew of Sam before he was introduced to Mercedes, and he knew the person he used to be—_so much like his dear old dad_, and he feared something like this would cause Sam to revert to his old ways. He feared Sam would lose his love forever if he did regress, if she did not return to London with him.

"Can I come in?" Kurt startled out of his thoughts, smiled widely at the blond at his door.

Kurt's hand flew to his chest to contain the squeal of excitement.

"You're here to take her back, aren't you?" Kurt bounced giddy in his chair, causing Sam to react with a sheepish grin his cheeks flushed with red and his ears were burning up.

"I'm certainly hoping." Sam closed the door behind him.

* * *

"He said his final peace, and I'm out of here Derek." Mercedes folded another shirt and placed it in her overnight bag. Derek had come by to see what the verdict was, only to catch his father storm out of the house and speed off in his car back to work. Mercedes had been upstairs packing her things, when he finally entered the house.

Derek Malcolm Jones, was just like his father to the tee—same blunt attitude, same way of thinking. However, Derek also played attention to his only little sister and even if he could not help but notice the fire that ignited in his sister when she met Sam. Derek wanted to hate the guy, he really tried to, but whenever he did see them together Sam treated Mercedes like a queen—only giving her the best. That was exactly what Derek wanted for his sister, that was how she was to be treated—or he'd be joining his father in planning the boy's funeral.

"I'll see if I can reason with the man, you know how he is about you cedes—you're his only daughter." He tried to ease some of the tension he felt when he entered her old room. She had moved to the bathroom, taking out her toiletries to toss them into her bags.

"I really don't care anymore, I'm not here for his stubbornness. I'm done." Mercedes tone had made him wince internally, it sounded so final.

"I will talk to him, whether you like it or not, Sam has grown on me and. . ..I think mom is not so wary of him either." Mercedes took in his words, and actually felt they held some truth. She was the one who came to her and proposed she make her dad lunch and to just try to talk to him before she left again. Her mother made no fuss about her leaving, it was almost like she was expecting it to happen.

"I'm a grown ass woman—I don't need….you know what fine, waste your breath." She continued to shove clothes into her bags, going around the room one last time to make sure she didn't forget anything.

Her brother helped with her bags, down the stairs to drop them off in the taxi they saw pull up—but it was Mercedes who stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a guy send the taxi away.

Sam nervously shoved his hands in his pockets still unaware of Mercedes and her brother watching him from the front door. It was when he heard that familiar scream did he realize she was running toward him.

She leaped into his arms, wrapping herself tightly around him in one of the longest, most anxious hugs she ever gave him. Mercedes finally was able to cry, when she heard his voice in her ear.

"It's okay. I'm here, to take you back with me—if you're ready?" He pulled away to meet her slightly glazed brown eyes.

She wiped her tears off his face, and placed a gentle kiss to his top and one to his bottom lip.

"I'm ready." She squeezed him tighter, her brother watched the whole thing from the front door.

"Sam." Derek nodded in his direction, and Sam threw up a hand and small smile back to him—they had an understanding. _Break my sister's heart and I break you_, Samuel understood that perfectly.

"Can we leave now, like right now?" She questioned, Sam readjusted her body to him as he walked them over to his truck parked on the other side of the street. He leaned her body back onto the back of his truck—smiling against her lips.

"What's the rush, Mercy?" He started to play with the button of her shirt, his fingers ghosting against them.

Mercedes looked to her side and saw her brother had closed the door and she thought he probably was in the kitchen stuffing his face. So she pulled him closer, her fingers trailing circles on his t-shirt.

"I wanna go back home—to our house." Her voice dropped down into a seductive purr.

Sam caught on quickly, and was about to give in.

"I promise we'll leave first thing tomorrow morning—I kind of have to check on my mom and dad. I may have said something's to both of them in London." He shot her an apologetic look, and she understood pushing him back a little.

"My bags." She pointed to where her belongings were.

"Yes mam." Sam stole a quick kiss from her before retrieving her bags off the lawn.

* * *

Sam dropped Mercedes off at his hotel room at the Woodall Hall—he promised to be back before dinner, he just wanted to check on his father at the Fabray-Evans investment bank. She was wary at first, but decided he may have needed this talk with his father.

Once past the large glass doors and into the elevator, Sam pressed the 88th floor button to his dad's floor. Immediately growing anxious, when he thought of the last thing he said to his father in London—it was out of frustration and anger, but mostly anger. He wanted to talk—not reconcile so much, but to make sure space would be given and respect for his wife was not something he would play with. Walking onto the floor, he took in the familiar exquisite marble floorings and extravagant building decorations—the place looked like it was worth a million dollars, Sam was sure it was a bit more.

He looked down at his watch and saw the time was little after three, his father along with Mr. Fabray would just be getting out of a board meeting. Passing by the receptionist, with a smile he approached his father's empty office and made himself comfortable—noting the office he once had was still vacant across from his.

He took a seat behind his desk, and sighed at the busy city underneath him. So much power, Sam could feel coursing through him here—it brought back too many unpleasant memories.

"Waiting for father, I see?" Sam turned around in his chair to come face to face with a man he often called father instead of his own. Mr. Fabray walked into the office, pushing his gray hair back over the balding spot on top of his head—Sam actually smiled at the man. It was a warm smile that he only gave him and nothing more to his own father. Sam remembered many times wanting to be adopted by this man—he taught him many more valuable life lessons than his father knew. His father only taught him three things: how to make money, keep it, and make sure you never get to where you can take his—that was how his father lived, Sam didn't anymore.

However Mr. Fabray was different, he actually gave a damn about his employees well being—he worried when things got bad and they had to let people go. He wanted to make sure this generation had an actual chance, donating to every student college organization he could find. Charles Fabray would always be the better man, and the only man to deserve his respect.

"Yeah, something of that nature." Samuel stood when he fully entered the room, offering his seat to the old man—but quickly sat down again when he declined.

"She's beautiful." Mr. Fabray spoke with a hint of a chuckle. Sam looked at the man for a second before a sheepish grin graced his lips.

"Thank you." His grin only grew wider.

"I could tell from the first time I saw you two dance together at the Auberry Gala Ball, she was the one you would marry—she keeps you on your toes doesn't she?" He laughed a bit more, watching Sam's cheek's flush.

"Yes sir, she does." Sam rubbed the back of his neck before joining in with a few laughs.

"Good. Good. You need that Samuel, a woman like that is a precious gem, very rare to come by in this business." 's tone was a bit more pointed as he looked to the large portrait on Sr. Evans wall, of Bethany his mother.

And that only made Sam's smile split in two. The two talked for a bit about the trade of new oil stocks and if the shares were correct for the percentage. Sam loved how he fell back into his old ways with —he wasn't stupid, he knew something about the business he tried so hard to stay away from.

He may have even been a decent shareholder, but Sam never wanted to stay and find out—however, Mercedes on the other hand would always triumph over him in the world of money, power, and greed. She had only quit because she grew bored of the business, not because she wasn't good at it. But Sam was glad, the day she finally decided to give it up was—the day they first officially started dating.

"One last piece of advice, Samuel." Mr. Fabray started, but he hesitated when looking for Sam's reaction.

"Stay away from this company, from this business. Go do what makes you happy, and never let your father and mother come between that. And most importantly keep them away from her, although I have the feeling the little lady can handle her own." He rose from his seat, his hand rested upon the mahogany desk—his eyes never looking up to meet Sam's.

"I'll see you around son. Give the little lady my best wishes." Mr. Fabray came in for a short hug, pulling Sam tightly in his arms—the gesture caught Sam off guard. When he left, he heard his father's voice approaching, and became guarded again.

"Stupid—goddammit jury. The records were clean and they still wanna investigate us. Rachel! Hold all my calls till I get rid of—Sam." His father stepped into the threshold of his office, sending him a menacing glare.

Sam shrugged it off, and smiled to take a seat at the corner of his desk—his father closed the door again folding his arms tightly across his chest.

"I don't have time for what ever it is you want. You got some nerve showing your face here, after the stunt you pulled."

"Wow dad, hello to you to." Sam said as dryly as he sounded.

He watched his dad walk around his desk to unlock a set of large cabinet doors—inside were four television screens all posting the days listing of stock numbers, and they were all red and plummeting.

"This can not be happening…." Sam heard his father say under his breath—he really wanted to feel bad for the guy.

"I just came to see what your last verdict was on me and Mercedes. She really wants this to work, and although I don't see why—I'm here to give it a shot." Sam finished.

He heard his dad scowl at his words and was about to about-face out of his office until he heard his father's voice.

"She wanted **you** to come here? For what? To ask for forgiveness. haaah.!"

Sam narrowed his eyes at his father, he could have stopped the words from rolling off of his tongue, but he didn't.

"Fuck you, you heinous bastard." Sam opened the door and quickly slammed it shut behind him, he was just about to go say goodbye to Mr. Fabray when he heard a shrill scream coming from the direction of his office and the sound of glass breaking.

Something bad had happened, Sam's heart already heavy with anger started beating rapidly in his chest. His feet were slow to move when he saw other's run toward Mr. Fabray's office.

After more screams were heard, Sam finally made it to his doorway to see what he had feared. The tears burned him so badly, and he couldn't breathe once he realized what had happened. Sam dropped to his knees still in utter disbelief.

"No. No—no—no. ..no." Sam had to force himself against a wall for stability.

_Mr. Fabray had jumped off the 88th floor to his death._

* * *

After watching the ambulance drive away, Sam finally made it back to the hotel in a complete daze. It was already on the radio, and he was sure the news channels were reporting the death as he came closer to the hotel room.

Sam could not help but feel like he lost his father today—the man that taught him how not to be his father. Sam lost the man, that made his life make sense.

His hands still shaking, he walked into the hotel room—his eyes blood shot red and terribly burned from the hard cry in his truck a few minutes ago. He dragged his feet against the carpet until his body could not go on anymore, dropping to his knees he didn't even lift up his head when Mercedes exited the bathroom fresh from a shower. His chest heaved faster and the tears came spilling down his face.

"Sam? Baby what's wrong?" Mercedes adjusted the tile around her tighter, rushing over to see if he were hurt.

He just grabbed her, holding her tightly to him, he wrapped his arms around her middle burying his face in her stomach—there in her arms he broke down completely.

Mercedes had never seen him like this before, she didn't question him, she just let him cry.

* * *

**Thoughts?**

**I already started on the next chapter and they will be back at home-_so you know what that means, lol._**


	4. Home again

_**Home again.**_

They didn't leave New York the next day, or that following week. Sam would put all of his business meetings on hold until after the funeral and when he felt strong enough to return to it all.

The reality of it all was that he had to fully grasp that, Charles Joseph Fabray was no longer with them, mostly him—he had no one to go to anymore. Sam in a way felt alone, he was the only parental figure in his life.

He was even the person who he talked to before exchanging vows with Mercedes—Sam called him, his nerves shot completely and the man calmly talked Sam down—Mike had tried on many attempts, but he knew Mr. Fabray would do a better job.

Mercedes tried to ease some of his pain in any possible way she could, and was there for him when he needed. She had no idea this man meant that much to him, but Mercedes felt a little of his pain. She felt bad not being able to get to fully meet the man Sam looked up to.

After the funeral, things started to pick up about the Fabray name itself, that Sam and Mercedes nuptials were not even mentioned anymore. The focus was the suicide death of the famous Charles Fabray. The media started to spin stories that the reason behind his death was because he knew something fraudulent was going on at Fabray-Evans and didn't want to face the jury. The stories that were published tried to make Charles look like the crook of it all and to Sam was not even remotely surprised—his father did not a damn thing about it.

Sr. Evans claimed he didn't know anything about the matters, and subtly put out the notion that maybe Charles felt guilty about something and could not face the music. Sam never admitted it to anyone, but he hated his father after that interview. He threw his partner under the bus to save his own ass—Sam couldn't prove it yet, but he had a feeling the only crook in the company was him.

Once they got off the plane back in central London, Mercedes and Sam excluded themselves into their own little bubble for a while. Losing Charles Fabray taught him one important thing—protect the ones you love, because they could be gone tomorrow. He never told Mercedes but showed instead, when he wrapped his arms around her back in that hotel room in New York. Sam immediately thought of losing Mercedes and how that would be the end of him—he wouldn't have anything to live for if something happened to her.

* * *

He had to get back to work, the deadline for his last minute costume editions was quickly approaching—and Sam found himself nose deep in last minutes additions to the hero of comic book's costume.

Sam tried to get in as much work as possible, but with Mercedes having a few weeks off before her small tour in the states started up she wanted him incessantly, not that he complained much either.

Now deciding to work in his home office, he was putting together the finished model of his star character—placing together the replica of an army uniform with all the accessories. He wanted to make sure the art department got down all his specific details of the costume exactly like he pictured it—down to the dog tags that hung around the mannequins neck.

"So this is the hero…" Mercedes stepped quietly to Sam's side, admiring his work.

She started to look at the uniform more closely, she always made it known she loved Sam's comics and found herself in love with watching him create them. Mercedes looked away from the mannequin to see him focused on his last creation—noting the seriousness in the way he carefully mapped out everything around him, also he wore his glasses—she had to practically force him to wear on most occasions.

"Yep, this is it." Sam spoke to her, his nose still buried in the papers in his lap.

Mercedes noticed the dog tags that hung around the mannequins neck. "Can I.." She asked.

He absently answered her with a small nod to let her continue examining the costume, and he quickly noticed his wife wore nothing more than one of his old white dress shirts—when she rose up on her tip toes to reach the dog tags he caught glimpse of the red lace panties that hugged her ample backside deliciously.

Moreover, her continuing to reach for them broke his concentration, entirely.

He pushed the square frames upon his face, and bit back the groan when started to talk about loving a man in uniform—the dog tags hung around her neck now which she began to twirl with her fingers. Sam caught onto her plan.

"Mercedes are you trying to distract me again?" He narrowed his eyes at her curiously, she then turned her back to him, still talking about the uniform.

"What? No. Why would you think that Sam?" He caught the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth—Mercedes slowly closed off the space between the two, nudging her way between his legs as he sat as his desk.

"Because you're in here with nothing on but a shirt and panties and it's almost four-thirty…" Sam looked extra hard when he noticed she wore no bra. He arched a brow at her when he saw the dog tags fell directly into her cleavage.

"What are you talking about, Sam?" She played with the edges of his shirt, her eyes never looking back into his.

It was pointless, the game she tried to play with him. Mercedes sucked in the air through her teeth, pushing away the papers on his desk—she made herself comfortable in his lap wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm not doing anything…" She nestled in closer to him, making sure her backside grinded teasingly into his groin. Sam wanted to curse his body for reacting so quickly to her advances, she already stopped moving her hips against him when she felt his body admit defeat.

Her fingers ghosted against his face, she leaned back so her lips were right beside the shell of his ear.

"You could take a small break, right?" Her voice low in a seductive purr, she flicked his earlobe with her tongue, eliciting a growl from him.

He never could tell her no, his grip around her waist tighten and he quickly grabbed her hips—lifting her from his lap he pushed her roughly back onto desktop.

Mercedes did not question him, she gave into him completely when his fingers unsnapped each button of her shirt slowly making sure she watched him.

She basked in the feel of his fingers trailing their way across her chest and down between her breast to the band of her lace panties. He pulled the material back a little to let it snap back against her skin—he noted the front of them were soaked in her juices.

His fingers found their way back to chain of the dog tags she wore, and he pulled them causing their lips to crash into a slow anxious sensual kiss. Mercedes moaned against his lips when she felt his hands grip both side of her panties—she complied raising her hips so he could remove them. She let them fall down to her ankles, then kicking them to the floor she opened her legs wider for him once she heard the jingle of his belt buckle hitting the floor.

Sam broke away from her lips to remove his shirt and started to trail butterfly kisses down her neck, her fingers dug into his shoulders when she felt his tongue swirl around one of her nipples. He used his tongue to leave a wet trail to the other breast, showing it the same attention.

"Baby…I need you right now, fuck." Mercedes threw her head back when she felt two of his fingers press against her clit, panting her hands fell back on the desk for stability.

She started to grind her hips with his fingers, each stoke he managed to directly curve and hit her spot. His fingers alone made her whimper and push away slowly, but Sam was there to pull her right back to him.

"Oh don't run now…I'm nowhere done with you.." He spoke in a growl, his lips found hers again to muzzle in her screams of endearment.

He withdrew his two fingers from her, placing them in his mouth to suck clean of her juices. The lost of contact stilled her hips, when she realized she was so close to reaching her first orgasm, she immediately narrowed her eyes at him for doing so.

"You ass—ohh my god…Sammm…" Mercedes bit down hard on her bottom when he she felt him ease inside her center hastily. They both hissed at the connection, Sam's teeth grazed her shoulder blade.

Once he controlled his breathing, they started up again—moving at a slow and steady pace that built up both their release. Mercedes wrapped her legs around him urging him to go faster and deeper at once. The sound of their skin slapping and lips teasing each other filled his office.

"Shit Mercy…shit.." He tried to bite back that tight feeling in the pit of his stomach, the familiar feeling only made him go faster against her.

He watched her eyes flutter close as his thrust picked up, causing her back to arch off the desk and her moans now blatantly louder. She tried to match his pace again, but when he went at her like this—fucking her with no remorse her body was useless to fight it off.

He slowed down again, and Mercedes tried to catch her breath before he started up again. She felt him tap her thigh, his hand found its way back around her waist.

"Get down.." He demanded her and she quickly obliged slowly to make sure her legs would support her. Sam guided her around in his arms, his front pressed flush against her back. Mercedes leaned forward a bit, gripped the sides of the desk in anticipation to be filled again, the throbbing sensations between her legs made her whimper in agony.

Nevertheless, he found her spot again, her voiced halted in her throat—her mouth in the shape of an O, she grabbed onto the desk even harder. She tried to fight off the feel to run and push him back, but he stopped it when he tightened his grip onto her waist, taking her with no remorse.

"Ohh….so fuckin close baby…" Sam spoke into her shoulder.

She clenched her vaginal muscles around him—causing the building of his release to teeter over. Sam could only growl against her skin as a warning for her to stop—he never figured out how to counteract that move she pulled on him.

The tingles of her orgasm ran down her spin, and legs almost gave away underneath her—she came long and hard around him. Breathless and tired as well, he shuddered when he felt her vaginal muscles contract around him causing him come hard right behind her. Both out of breath, they tried coax the other's orgasm down before moving again—Sam made sure not to let go of Mercedes.

Mercedes turned around slowly in his arms, her lips met his in a lingering kiss. When she moved away, Sam grabbed onto the dog tags around her neck—to bring her back into their kiss.

"I'm sorry.." Mercedes smiled against his lips.

"For?" He smiled back as well.

"I was trying to distract you…" She pushed him back, and Sam quickly caught her again, bringing her flush against him—he figured she would be having a little trouble walking.

"I know.." Sam lifted her up in his arms bridal style. "I love your distractions.."

* * *

"Has she even decided on a first single?" Matt Rutherford turned down the microphone volume while Mercedes entered the recording booth. Santana who had been in a daze since she walked in, perked up at Matt's word and absently shook her head.

They both watched Mercedes get comfortable, and silenced the others in the room accordingly as Mercedes was about to sing.

"She told me, she was doing it today for sure, and she wanted us all to hear it for honest opinions." She quickly moved to collect her phone, and turned both hers and Mercedes on silent.

"Oh my god, am I late?" Kurt's shrill voice startled everyone, but he played them no mind taking a seat beside Santana—immediately catching Mercedes attention he waved and blew her a kiss.

"Nope the show is about to start and I have a very good feeling about this single we're about to hear—she's been so top secret about it. I'm practically dying in all the anticipation now." Santana nudged Matt's shoulder and on Mercedes cue was to start the music.

Sam had decided to leave work early and surprise Mercedes for lunch. He was already pumped up when the final contracts were signed, and the movie already had a date to start shooting. Artie requested he tag along during the shooting process, so his vision would stay true to the material. When Sam arrived at the Braceson's Recording Studio, he was greeted by Mercedes body guard Shane Tinsley and was given the room number they were in—but instructed to stay quiet as they were already recording today.

He text'd Santana to let him in, and quickly found a seat next to Kurt—completely hidden from Mercedes view.

Everybody just stopped what they were doing when she started to sing, the instrumentals played were of a smooth acoustic guitar.

_When I look into your eyes. .. ._

_It's like watching the night sky_

_Or a beautiful sunrise_

_There's so much they hold_

_And just like them old stars_

_I see that you've come so far_

_To be right where you are_

_How old is your soul?_

Kurt was the first to grab a tissue, and start to sway side to side at the emotional lyrics—he knew where they were coming from Mercedes' heart. Sam looked over and saw Santana mouth, _oh my god_, he was surprised even she was swaying side to side with Kurt grabbing a Kleenex to dap the corners of her eyes as well.

The look on everyone's faces was of the same awe and admiration-over Mercedes' beautiful stripped vocals. It was when Kurt reached over and squeezed Sam's shoulder did he noticed it was Kurt handing him a tissue as well. He didn't even notice his vision blurred as she continued on with the song—every lyric a retelling of their story.

_I won't give up on us_

_Even if the skies get rough_

_I'm giving you all my love_

_I'm still looking up_

_And when you're needing your space_

_To do some navigating_

_I'll be here patiently waiting_

_To see what you find_

_Cause even the stars they burn_

_Some even fall to the earth_

_We've got a lot to learn_

_God knows we're worth it_

_No, I won't give up_

_I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily_

_I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make_

_Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use the tools and gifts we got, Yeah, _

_We got a lot at stake_

_And in the end you're still my friend, at least we did intend for us to work_

_We didn't break, we didn't burn_

_We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in_

_I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not_

_And who I am_

_I won't give up on us_

_Even if the skies get rough_

_I'm giving you all my love_

_I'm still looking up_

_I'm still looking up_

It wasn't hard to notice most eyes in the room were on him about half way into the song. Santana who had stood up at this point had caught the words and started to sing to herself, she besides everyone else had already started mouthing the lyrics along with Mercedes as she ended the last chorus. Kurt and Matt were the first to start clapping proudly at Mercedes as she even wiped a few tears away and took a small bow to her lovely audience of peers.

Sam released a hearty chuckle as he took in the lyrics and starting singing them over in his head, still remembering the way her voice mixed in with the acoustic guitar—he rose up from his seat and made a straight path to the recording booth Mercedes was about to leave.

They almost bumped into each other, Mercedes clutching at her chest when she took in Sam standing in front of her. Her expression went to immediate confusion, but she dropped it when he pulled her into his arm hugging onto her for dear life.

He loved Mercedes much more than life itself, but to hear her sing those lyrics, allowing herself to be vulnerable like that in front of the entire world like that—made his heart warm.

"So you loved it?" She pulled away a little, cupping his face in her hands.

Sam had to bite back the feeling to kiss the answer in her, kissing her senseless, so he gave her a questioning gaze before resting his forehead against hers.

"I absolutely loved it." Mercedes smiled against his lips before she kissed him gently twice.

* * *

I won't give up, was released as Mercedes first single off her self titled debut album. It was for the most part not her record label's top choice to release, but they quickly changed their tone once the single reached the number one spot in fourteen countries. The single was also number one for twelve weeks on the Billboard Hot 100. Just four months after the albums fall release it was certified platinum, the video was nominated for four MTV Video Music Awards, and two Bet Awards.

Mercedes went along with the success and received three Grammy Award nominations, and took home one for, Song of the Year.

She took in the success gladly with her husband Sam by her side the entire time. They both were having a successful year—with Sam launching yet another comic and was in the talks to have another one made into a cartoon series for Nickelodeon. It was hard at times, with them both having to travel separately—Mercedes spent most of time in the states, while Sam worked overseas. But there were certain occasions where they would catch a red eye flight to the other—when the work was too much or they just missed the other terribly. They both made a promise to make things works.

With her sudden success, Mercedes found it easy adjusting to the newfound exposure. It was different not being known as Dwayne Jones daughter, but as the Grammy award winning R&B diva Mercedes Jones—that other part of her life had seem to vanish.

Even with the success, her father still was tight lipped, not even a single congratulations or I'm proud—but she had some hope inside her when her mother to congratulate her and they started up a relationship again—she let it be known she was still a bit wary about what happened between them, but nothing would stop them from being family. Her brother Derek visited them at their home from time to time, and never loss contact with his little sister. Him and Sam actually had some type of male bonding, which involved football and cars. Debra Jones, much to Dwayne's dismay had in fact invited the couple to come to the Jones family reunion which was exactly two weeks before their one-year anniversary. Sam's initial reaction was fear, as he would be walking into a lion's den—but Debra told him it would be fine and if he really were scared to stay away from Mr. Jones at all times. It was a little joke, but Sam noted it as a mission.

The following weeks before they were to depart for Lima, Ohio—the couple found themselves back in NYC, for a few business meetings. Mercedes was in talks of another album and working on a small series of concerts—while Sam wanted to meet and finalized things with Puck on their impending cartoon series.

They both wanted to go under the radar and stay as hidden from the paparazzi as possible, but Sam's mother was sure to know each and every time her son made it through the city. Sam really did feel like she had him bugged or something—she knew everything.

When the offer was put on the table for them to meet and have lunch today at the Evan's estate, Mercedes gracefully declined and pushed for Sam to go alone.

"Do you really think me and your mother should be in the same room? With silverware?" Mercedes had asked him, as he begged her for the thousandth time for her to join him.

Sam immediately thought of a previous date where they all attended a gathering after Charles Fabray's funeral, where he had to hold Mercedes back from leaping on his mother.

"You are going Sam, because I will not have that lady think I'm keeping her son from her." Mercedes started fixing his tie and straightening out his collar.

Once he figured begging was a no go, he decided it was time for drastic measures—his lips formed into an adorable pout, and he managed a few sadden whimpers.

"No. .. .NO, stop it Sam, I'm not going with you." Mercedes tried walking away from him, but each time she moved he stepped closer his pout growing bigger and sadder. She backed into her vanity, Sam briskly scooped her up and placed her on top of it. No longer in a pout, he began peppering butterfly kiss at her clavicle pulling her body to him while his fingers firmly gripped into her backside.

"Just once before I go then. .. .I'll make it really quick." Sam's voice dropped an octave deeper, whispering into the shell of her ear.

He heard Mercedes giggle at his idea and smiled slyly when he felt her tug hard at his tie.

"The quicker you go, the sooner you can come back—just go and do this for me. I promise to make it up to you….pleaseee?" Mercedes laugh turned into a seductive purr, she nipped at his earlobe. He was already half way there when Mercedes pushed him away again and hopped off the vanity to leave for the bathroom.

"Bye Sam. …" He heard Mercedes say before slowly closing the bathroom door, beyond annoyed at her teasing he roughly began fixing his tie again, grabbed his wallet and coat to head for the door.

"Fine! I'm leaving—I'm going to hug my mother, grab some food and maybe take one picture and I'm dippin out, Mercy.."

"And when I get back that ass better be ready for me! I'm calling the shots!" Slamming the door to their hotel room, he headed for the elevators.

She had done it again, using herself as collateral to get him to play nice with his parents, and Sam was already plotting his return.

* * *

**Bleh, nothing bad happened in this chapter and I'm not too happy with it, but I really wanted to use I won't give up by jason mraz somehow. Please review! And yeah, Sam does have a bit of a bad side which I plan to ease in more later-next up Sam's mother, Quinn (heads up you won't like her in this story, sorry) and a bit of Klaine. -Anna**


	5. Mother will have her way, Mercy as well

_**Mother will have her way, but so will Mercedes.**_

When Sam arrived at his childhood home, he almost pressed his foot to the gas to drive away until he saw the valet—that was expecting him.

She knew the car he was driving in as well, his mother never out of surprises.

After texting Mercedes of his arrival he was quickly led into the rose garden in the back of the large villa. Sam was taken back by the new landscaping and floral decorations—since the last time he was here the yard was empty, his mother never cared for outdoor activities—Sam wondered what rich snob was she trying to impress now.

This was always the case with his mother, she was so quick to impress someone with her husbands' money she never cared about the important things—like him.

When his father made his first million, she quickly quit her job as a music teacher at a private school and took glory in being a rich man's wife. She dropped all her as she would say common friends and adopted new more rich one's like herself. She prided herself in spending money to stay in competition with other rich wives', but she also threw out her morals and values as well.

When Sam was only ten, he realized something had changed significantly between his parents. They didn't look at each other the same anymore—there was no passion and certainly no emotion. At the age of fourteen, his dad became bold when he would take out other women that were not his mom—Sam just watched his mother ignore it. She continued to go out and rub hands with all the rich in NY, that was all she wanted now.

Once Sam entered the garden, he looked around to see if he could recognize any faces. Surely he did, almost every billionaire on Wall Street that lived was at this luncheon. Every man Sam use to strive to be like was here.

"Samuel, you actually came. Well I'll be damned." He tried to mask the dread in face with some kind of calmness. His mother had spotted him, and he watched her saunter over to him with a full wine glass in her hand and a new diamond bracelet on her wrist—he was sure she was showing that piece off.

Once she approached him, he came in for a small hug, barely touching his mother's back before saying to himself, _that's one._

Instantly he looked around for where the food was set up and made a plan to grab a plate, already piecing together his apology of leaving.

"Hmm, now where's that wife of yours? She could at least show her face here, I've heard a few guest here are quite fond of her music, and were thrilled she was coming." Sam almost choked at her declaration, _did she not remember the last time they were in each other's presence?_ His side-eye was definitely obvious.

"Oh don't give me that look Sammy…I promise to play nice this time—who knew Merc—see—daze had such a short fuse—I mea…"

"She sends her love, mother. Mercedes has other things to attend to tonight…_like me_" Sam tried to make it believable, but left out the last part however he decided he didn't care too much—he would not add to her show.

"I mean really Samuel, I invited her the least she could do is show up, sign a few measly autographs and be on her damn merry way." Bethany Evans scoffed at the grimace on her son's face—she would never learn, and Sam even started to regret stopping Mercedes from going at her.

"Cut the crap, mom—"

"Well…maybe the next time, if she's around that much longer, and that's all I'll say about her." His mother's comment basically went over his head, after they exchanged a few more words, his mother was already pulling him away to meet the other guest.

It was two hours later and Sam was still at his mother's side discussing the balances of fusion power and oil exchanges on the market. But Sam kept getting the feeling he was being watched by someone. It was also puzzling him that he didn't see the one person he knew would be here, Quinn Fabray. He even prayed the blond would show face tonight, anything to get his mother from his side would be a heaven sent.

Just like clock work, the mayor's wife pulled his mother away and Sam was off in search of the valet to find his car, when suddenly someone tapped him on his shoulder. He caught sight of the person's blond hair and a whiff of the mundane perfume—a very enduring scent.

"Quinn." Sam spoke to her with his back turned, he took a few more steps and then stopped when realizing he didn't want to be completely rude to her—she lost her father after all. She was still a bitch, but he would not be that person.

"How are you?" Finally taking in her appearance, she didn't look like she was morning too bad, but Sam knew those angelic green eyes could hide many things. Her hair was cut shorter, framing her face in a bob style cut—she still looked like a delicate flower, only Sam knew it had plenty of thorns. When she smiled back at him, Sam got that gut feeling to walk away—that smile never meant good things from her.

"I'm better, now that I see you're back." She started, Sam quickly noted her move closer to him.

"Oh no, I'm not back—I just came to see my mother before I head to Ohio for Mercedes family reunion, it was completely Mercy's idea." Sam took a retrospect move away from her, she was still same ol'Quinn.

He had interrupted her, and tried to analyze the disturbed look she gave him when he mentioned his wife to her.

"Well good for you two, although I'm still a bit appalled I never got an invite to the wedding." Sam noted her words came out forced, and that made him slightly uncomfortable, but he let her continue.

"Sorry, it was only for people we both wanted to be there." Sam's voice was cold, matching hers exactly.

Quinn dropped her angelic smile to narrow her eyes at him, before tilting her head to catch a glimpse of his mother chattering away and resting her eyes back on him.

"Point taken—mother dearest wasn't there either. I just thought—I just thought with me coming into my father's place at Fabray-Evan's, maybe you would show me the ropes. You know put the past behind us." Quinn stated nonchalantly.

"Uhh, why would I do that when my father's right there, and for the record don't hold your breath on me coming back. I was serious when I said I'm done with his company and him." He had to drop the frowns forming on his face, once he noticed they had been there for a while—at the thought of his father. The idea of him teaching Quinn anything was questionable especially when she acted just like his father in the market—nothing like her own father, Charles Fabray. He witnessed that person before she ended up pregnant and had to take an indefinite leave, when Charles said it was too much for her and the baby.

"But it would be like old times with you and me, when we were both young stock traders on the floor—taking the money out of all investors pockets. We had a lot of fun in those days—just me and you as a dynamic duo. I would love to get that part of my life back…among other things.." She spoke with such enthusiasm, like she was recalling upon a good memory, which it was anything but.

"It was a good time for you, me not so much Quinn—I'm happy where I am now, but where is little Beth?" Sam started to look down to see if he could see the top of a little girls head, somewhere in the crowd of expensive tailored suits and cocktail dresses.

"She's with her dad, for the week." Her voice came out cold and distant, her green eyes into narrowing slits.

"Puck didn't tell me, he was keeping her. Well, I'm sure you have other people to talk to—so good luck with that." Sam brushed off that distinct chill and started to make his leave again.

"Well, I'm sure we will cross paths again Sam—much sooner than you think."

He managed to hear her over the crowd of chattering guest. _Not in this lifetime, Fabray._

* * *

"Diva, What are you doing today besides staying in that hotel room?" Kurt asked on her other line.

Mercedes placed her phone down carefully not to miss up her freshly polished nails, and put it on speaker. Santana had stopped by for her to run some last minute contract details and now the two were just relaxing while talking to Kurt.

"Santana's here, and I'm waiting for Sam to come back—we sorta made a deal if he went to go see his mother before we head to Ohio..." Santana covered her mouth to hold in the snort and laugh—when she caught the hidden agenda behind _deal_. Kurt caught on as well.

"Wow, he actually went to his mother's what does Mercedes have magical pussy or something?" Kurt was truly flabbergasted Sam would agree to having spent time with his mother. "Seriously, you two fuck like rabbits—I'm shocked you even answered the phone due to being tied to bed right now."

Both Mercedes and Santana had to laugh at that one, it was nearing six o'clock and Sam still hadn't come back yet—he didn't even text her to let her know if he was having a terrible time.

"You ladies should come as my plus two, to the opening of Carole's Grill, Sam can wait a few measly hours." Kurt began again, Santana already perked up at the mention of free food.

"I'm definitely in, Kurt. Just give me the directions." Santana already slipping back on her black, Gia Lorenzi pumps, her fingers still in air for drying.

"Hold on, who said I'm going?" Mercedes looked back between the phone and Santana, who just gave her a straight face as if saying really we're turning this down?

"Fine. Let me go put on some actual clothes and we'll meet you there." Mercedes already heard Kurt clapping on the other end, she really had a hard time saying no to him—but she had an idea.

"Oh and Kurt—I'm bringing somebody else with us, if you don't mind." Mercedes nudged Santana who was already pulling out accessories for Mercedes planned outfit—she knew the plan sending a text to Blaine.

"Who do we have in mind?" Kurt asked.

"Your date for the night.." Mercedes touched end call on her phone screen—cutting off Kurt's dissent.

Santana handed her a simple black coast Isabella wrap dress and dressed it up with a pair of fuchsia louboutin daffodile pumps.

"Blaine said he would meet us there." Santana text'd back into her phone the directions she just received from Kurt—both her and Mercedes laughed at the threats Kurt sent along with them.

* * *

Deciding on light makeup and finishing her hair to drape on her shoulders in loose curls, Mercedes and Santana arrived at Carole's bar and grill to receive red carpet treatment. The paparazzi were out in full swing which meant pictures would be up by tomorrow.

Once they found Kurt, they were all escorted to a private table on the deck of the restaurant and because Kurt knew the owner personally, they were given their own personal cook and waiter to fulfill all their request.

Mercedes didn't bother to protest the extra attention, even though she just wanted a simple outing with her friends—she decided to say little as possible and let Kurt and Santana have their fun. After taking a few pictures and signing a few autographs, she gave Santana the word to let others know she would be declining further attention for the night as she just wanted to relax—and Carole was happy to answer that request.

Once they ordered a round of drinks, Mercedes phone went off—a text from Blaine.

She quietly excused herself to find him in the front and gave him a little pep talk on what Kurt was like.

"I promise you'll love him." Mercedes' arm looped around Blaine's as they made it closer to their table, she noticed Blaine adjusting his red bowtie for the umpteenth fourth time since he had arrived. Mercedes had always played with the notion of getting the two together since she saw Blaine checking him out at her album release party last year. She made a note to get them together, and she believed in her heart the two would be a perfect match—completely the opposite from Blaine's last relationship with Sebastian Smyth.

"I trust you cedes, but come on he wasn't even expecting this." Blaine cleared his throat when he caught Kurt amused and bashful smile—which he returned.

Santana and Mercedes watched completely tickled.

"So then it's perfect, and he can't run—not that he would." Mercedes quickly changed her way of words.

"Kurt totally thinks you're cute. You're pretty much in there." She reassured him. It gave him a bit of confidence back—that he went up to him and introduced himself to receive another sheepish grin from Kurt.

"Mission accomplished." Santana and Mercedes bumped fist under the table.

"What was that?" Kurt noticed the two were extra giggly at him and Blaine's encounter.

"Nothing…" Santana motioned for a waiter to take their food orders. Mercedes just smiled when Kurt gave her his signature, _thank you Diva_.

About half way into dinner Mercedes phone went off—signaling she had a text from Sam.

_Where are you? –Sam_

_The grand opening of Carole's bar and grill, and for the record I tried to stay the hotel—but the perfect moment to hook up Kurt with Blaine came and well…. –Mercy_

_Understandable. I guess I'll just join you. –Sam_

_I'll be waiting. –Mercy_

* * *

When Sam finally made it back to hotel, disappointed would have been an understatement when he saw that Mercedes had in fact left.

On the ride home he was already picturing what delectable number she would put on tonight—but an empty hotel room was not what he expected.

Once he found out where she was for the night, he quickly got back in car and decided this would not put a wrench in their plans, well his plans.

The head of security recognized Sam when he entered the restaurant and immediately led him back to the private section his wife was located. There he received the same treatment as the security made sure most people didn't ask for pictures and autographs from him—Sam almost choked when he saw his wife in her dinner dress.

He could never take her in heels, anything over four inches had him whimpering and begging. Mercedes caught the incredulous look in his eye when he approached their table, they shared a knowingly glance before he spoke to everyone else at the table.

His smile dropped when he set eyes on Blaine chatting away with Kurt. Mercedes pulled into the booth they were sharing and grabbed his chin to break the hard glare he gave Blaine, as her warning to behave.

Doing so, caused him to catch the glint of lust in Mercedes brown eyes and his previous agenda came back to mind. Sam declined on ordering anything, as he ate somewhat at his mother's gathering—but he excused himself and Mercedes from the table.

Santana talked on her phone and seemed to be engrossed in a conversation with Blaine, while Kurt looked endearingly at Blaine the entire time. Sam figured he had plenty of time before they noticed they were really gone. Once they entered the restaurant again, Sam quickly searched for a place for him and Mercedes to go—however Mercedes had already handled that for him. She entwined her fingers with his taking the lead now—to lead them in the direction of the kitchen, but to take another turn to enter into a back room that was still being remodeled.

Quickly she pushed him in to lock the door behind them—rushing to fulfill her craving need.

Mercedes let him know once she locked the door and checked it, she would be taking the lead—her hands already on the tie of her wrap around dress, she pulled it letting it fall open to reveal the purple lace/silk set.

Pushing him against what seemed to be a table she trailed her fingers down his chest to begin un tucking his shirt from his pants, moving teasingly slow to make sure she didn't wrinkle his clothes. His green eyes darkened with arousal, as they rested on her plush lipstick covered lips—just yearning to taste them he went in for quick kiss, pulling her bottom lip back with him.

She unbuckled his pants and gripped him through his boxers—eliciting a growl from him. Mercedes deviously smiled against the skin at his neck begin to slowly stroke his erection in his boxers. She grabbed him a little harder, causing him to curse loudly into the air above him.

"Shhhh…Sam do you want us to get caught?" Mercedes laughed, loosening her grip on him and worked her way up his neck, nipping and licking at the sensitive spot behind his ear.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, his heartbeat ringing in his ears—he became anxious. Coming back to her lips in one, two, three rough pecks to her lips, he walked them back into a door—his hands snaked their way down her body, he yanked down her panties and placed a lingering kiss to her slick opening. Mercedes caught wind of what he was doing, and she didn't want to loose control just yet—so she took his face in her hands and brought him back up to her lips, their tongues wrestling for dominance.

Sam took her right leg in his hand and in a swift move hoisted Mercedes up against the door, where she gladly wrapped her legs around him tightly. His dick pressed against her clit, helped to relieve some of the aching but she wanted more and now—Mercedes reached in between them and guided his hard dick into her wet center. Sam just about lost it, slammed her body against the door roughly causing her to bounce against him.

He started it first, planting his hands on both sides of her—thrusting into her with force her body bounced up and down against the door. Mercedes felt the familiar tingle in the pit of her stomach start to build, wrapping her legs around Sam even tighter, her freshly painted nail dug into his biceps so hard she was sure she left marks.

Sam didn't let go, and surely showed no signs of slowing down as he was trying to chase his release he had been hold since before he left for his mother's. His hands balled into fist against the door as his thrust came quicker and more aligned to her spot.

"Fuck….oooh…right..there…don't stop.." Mercedes threw her head back, her hands gripped and kneaded her breast.

He fucked the orgasm out of her, her moans muzzled against his lips she shuddered when her vaginal walls contracted around him. With one hand planted firmly against the door he moved out of her again—to quickly dive right back in causing them both to scream obscenities into the air.

Mercedes peppered kisses to his face and jaw when she felt him climax hard in her. Their foreheads rested against each other's for a second when they tried to catch their breath again, each whispering, I love you's.

Once he felt they had both calmed back down, he let Mercedes feet grace the floor again. She stayed in the same spot for minute, to make sure she had some balance—watching Sam as he picked up her dress and panties. He took one step back and eyed her almost naked body with her peep toe pumps still on, he had to fight back the instinct to jump her again.

Mercedes tried her best to look like she hadn't just been properly fucked in a back room at a restaurant before her and Sam made their way back to the table.

She ran her fingers through her almost non existent curls before taking a seat beside Santana. Sam couldn't stop smiling, and that slightly annoyed her—he looked so guilty.

"Mercedes what a pleasure to grace us with your presence…you too Sam." Kurt leaned over the table to get a better at Sam's face.

"Mercedes actually looks descent, Sam could have at least made sure he wiped off all the lipstick." Santana handed him a napkin. The smile he wore, showed no traces of him being embarrassed.

"Where's Blaine?" Mercedes tried to change the subject of the conversation.

"Work call, he stepped out a minute ago." Kurt answered.

Mercedes smiled at his bubbly response, and started to bask in glory of her perfect love match, much to Sam's dismay—Mercedes and Kurt noticed.

"Baby will you give him a chance. You can't hate the guy forever." Mercedes tried persuade his thoughts of the guy with a soft kiss to the back of his hand. Mercedes understood why he didn't too much care for Blaine—he wasn't exactly _teamSam_ when they started dating, and he let it be known.

However, Sam would behave—for her only. The rest of the night went smoothly, Sam got to be by his wife and Kurt and Blaine seemed to be hitting it off—even Sam had to admit it was good for Kurt.

* * *

"Did you see Samuel before he left, Quinn?" Bethany Evans came for a quick hug, when she spotted Fabray gathering her jacket and purse.

"I did, he seems…happy?" Quinn spoke blatantly, her eyes never leaving the floor.

"Well, we have work to do—me and you." Bethany Evan filled her wine glass again, before Quinn could protest she accepted the filled glass from Mrs. Evans.

"About?" She asked.

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_

_**In the next chapters, a lot will be revealed about Quinn's intentions and even a look into what happened between Mr. Evans and Charles fabray before he killed himself. Also Mercedes and Sam will be going to Ohio and Dwayne and Sam will be getting to know each other a little better, lol. That will be fun. And yes even with the bs that is glee, I will continue to write samcedes fanfiction-they will forever be canon to me, so yeah.-Anna**_


	6. The signs were there

_**The signs were there.**_

Mercedes loved spending time in the city, however she could not wait to say goodbye today.

_She really believed she had escaped Sam's mother in her constant attempts of doing any type of social interacting. Somehow, Mercedes found herself fighting the urge to not punch the lady square in the face._

_Her tone was always snippy and condescending towards her, and Mercedes only had so much strength._

_It was today, Sam had pulled them both to a last minute dinner—his grandmother being in town for the day was the only legitimate reason for giving in to his mother's request, and he really wanted his Nana to meet his wife. She was the complete opposite of his mother and did not see things so close-minded or green._

"_Good evening, Mrs. Evans—Nana Evans." Mercedes smiled when the elderly woman held out her hand to Mercedes;—she greeted both women back warmly while Sam's mother dropped her head to her half empty wine glass. Mercedes would try for Sam tonight, only for him._

"_Can you at least pretend to have some manners and greet the woman, jeez Bethany." Sam's grandmother scolded Bethany—she grimaced at the woman's words before taking an impromptu sip of her wine shooting Mercedes a forced smile._

"_I'm so glad you found the time in your oh—so busy schedule to meet us, before you head off to—what is it called again Lima something…" Bethany took the fur shawl from around her shoulders to place on the back of her chair. Mercedes silently thanked the heavens when she saw Sam had arrived, meaning she would be talking to Mrs. Evans less._

"_It's Lima, Ohio." Mercedes corrected her, she flashed a quick smile before dropping it to show how much she dreaded talking to her._

"_Yeah, yeah I still don't think you taking my Sammy down there is a good idea. I mean will it be safe for him?" Mercedes scoffed loudly at her declaration, she did not want to read too much into Mrs. Evans words but the appalled look on Nana Evans face said otherwise._

_Sam gently tapped Mercedes on the shoulder, he cleared his throat before kneeling down to peck his wife on the cheek—receiving a tilted glance from his mother and an amused one from his grandmother._

"_Aren't they just adorable." Nana Evans smiled at Mercedes, she nudged Bethany again with her elbow to drop the obvious frowns she wore._

"_Hmmm just lovely.." Bethany took another sip from her glass. Sam went over to hug his grandmother and kiss his mother on the cheek, right before whispering, behave mother._

"_Well, where is the alcohol—I could use a whiskey sour." Nana Evans raised her hand to catch one of the waiters on standby. She gave him her drink order of a mimosa and whiskey sour._

"_Samuel—Mercedes?" She waited for their drink orders._

_Sam ordered a whiskey sour as well and Mercedes politely declined just ordering a water with lemon slice, that got a rise out of Bethany._

"_No drinking tonight, I'm sure they have something back there for your taste." She arched a brow at Mercedes._

"_Leave the girl alone, she doesn't want alcohol which is a good sign since I've been sitting here with you for only a few damn minutes and I need a bottle of something… maybe she's pregnant." _

_Nana Evans smiled widely at Sam who seemed to have begun to choke on something—he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Mercedes eyes widened at her blunt statement about Sam's mother—she knew she liked this woman, even she felt a bit of a tickle in her throat at that comment._

"_Oh god no, Samuel did you really?" Bethany frowned looking between the two. Mercedes wanted to scream at her for being so damn dramatic about everything._

"_No one is pregnant—give me a fuc…"Mercedes started._

"_No mom! Mercedes is not pregnant." Sam interrupted her before she could finish, he noted his grandmother's pout and felt the need to take a sip of his water._

"_Good." She smiled again, much to Mercedes dismay._

"_Not yet that is." Sam tipped his glass up to his mother, receiving a praise from his grandmother who began looking the dinner menu. He looked over at the stunned expression on Mercedes' face that quickly turned into a small smirk._

"_Well, while we are on the subject of grandchildren—have you spoken to Quinn lately?"_

"_Ya`know I really wish you'd shut the hell up and let me talk to my grandson and his wife, how does my son even bother? Mercedes excuse her, but I should probably tell you this since you've lasted this long with her… you are an amazing beautiful woman—with the voice of an angel I might add—do not let my daughter in law words ever get to you…she's a bit of a snob—if only my son could have picked his wife more carefully. But then again, I wouldn't have you Samuel, so I guess you did something right Bethany…" Nana Evan accepted her two drinks from the waiter, missing the glint of anger in Bethany's eyes—Mercedes didn't even try to contain the smile at her lips, maybe this evening wouldn't be so bad after all._

"_Actually maybe a mimosa wouldn't be too bad.." Mercedes smiled up at Nana Evans._

The day was suppose to be less stressful for Mercedes, however she found herself doing last minute deals with the record label which caused her to miss her afternoon flight. In addition, it did not help that she managed to catch a stomach bug and could barely keep anything down.

Now they were held up from taking off on the next plane due to technical difficulties. Mercedes and Sam had to wait at the airport for a total of four hours before taking off and Mercedes could not wait to touch down, her head buried in her lap most of the flight.

"Oh god, I don't think I'm gonna make it…" Mercedes briefly shook off Sam's hand on her shoulder when he tried to soothe her with calming words. She jumped up from her seat just as the seat belt sign went off and ran through the curtains from first class to find the restroom.

On the remainder of the flight she chugged down ginger ale and knocked herself out with Midol's. Awakening, she felt much better and even sported a smile when she caught sight of her brother who greeted them at the departure sight.

Her stomach felt a bit better, running up to Derek she dropped her bags to hug him tightly. Sam picked up their bags and wondered if her father were anywhere around. He wanted to enjoy this trip for her, and even learn a bit more about his wife—since he never saw where she really came from.

Lima was not much different from Nashville, Tennessee; Sam quickly noted as his brother in law Derek gave him a small little tour around their old neighborhood—showing him Mercedes old school and their old house they stayed in as children. It was nice, that he felt the need to show him these things—that Derek felt the need to step up and show him he wouldn't be alone on this trip.

They drove a while longer, going down a long abandoned dirt road with completely nothing around them, until they entered a newly built subdivision. The houses were almost the size of schools, Sam was amazed houses like this existed in Lima, Ohio.

He gently tapped Mercedes who had fallen asleep during the long drive, instantly declaring she was starving from the flight and ride alone.

Derek entered a code at the gates before them and the car quickly drove through the black iron gates around the house.

"Bienvenido a la finca Jones.." Derek looked to the backseat at Sam.

"Wow, que probablemente podria perderse alli" Sam responded earning him a delighted smirk from Derek.

Sam took in the luxury cobble paved plaza before him, with sculpted topiaries to Grecian temple columns—the entire manor was breath taking, an architectural masterpiece.

The trio met Debra at the door and to Mercedes surprise she hugged Sam first and kissed his cheek. Sam was astounded, he did not know whether to hug her back with the same enthusiasm or stand behind Mercedes if her father were to show up. He tried to return her enthusiasm when she took his hand and started to show him around the house at once.

They made the decision to come a day early before everyone else was to arrive, which meant more alone time with her parents. It was Mercedes plan, whether Sam caught on or not to get her father and him on speaking terms—she just hoped her father would try and meet them half way.

Mercedes noticed when Sam squeezed her hand tightly, she heard her father's booming voice approaching them. He actually sounded happy.

"Derek glad to see you came early.." His voice broke when he saw the other two standing by him. His eyes quickly changed from the happy eager feel to just barely showing any emotion at all—Debra rose a brow at him and tilted her head toward Mercedes and Sam's direction.

"Cedes…" Moreover, he actually came forward to hug her, even Derek had to step back and watch the interaction. Mercedes was beyond surprised, but she watched her mother look at them in awe the entire time—_she threatened him before they arrived_, she had to.

Once they broke away, Sam released the breath he realized he was holding and was completely fine with being ignored, and alive.

"Eva—I mean Samuel." Dwayne hesitated, held out his hand for Sam to meet him half way. Immediately he looked between Mercedes and her mother for an answer, Mercedes blatantly pushed him forward.

"Mr. Jones." Sam returned the grip and quickly dropped his hand.

Dwayne shot his wife a quick glance as if to say, _fine happy now_, he quickly left with Derek in tow.

"See I told you he was coming around.." Debra smiled at the couple again, already half way up the stairs. Sam and Mercedes grabbed their bags to follow.

They walked up another flight of stairs and through a set of double doors, their bedroom suite.

"This suite is almost as big as me and your fathers'." Debra looked over her shoulder at the two, completely tickled. The room was decorated in warm colors of mahogany and chestnut with gold and ivory accents. The furniture seem to be custom built into the room and Mercedes suddenly wondered what was the occasion, the Jones family reunion were never this big, and this house had to have cost her dad a fortune. Her dad was definitely going all out for something.

"I'll let you two get comfortable, and will send Derek up to let you know when dinner's ready." Debra hugged her daughter again, and gave Sam a quick kiss to the cheek before rubbing the lipstick off his cheek. She took one last look at the couple before closing the double doors behind her.

"I'm glad you came to join us, Sam." Debra's smile was warm it reached her soft brown eyes, and it made Sam cheeks flush, he returned the same smile back.

Before Sam could question what was up with her parents new attitudes, he saw Mercedes dash for the bathroom again.

"I have to pee right quick.." She closed the door to the suite's bathroom.

* * *

Back in New York, Sr. Evans was working on closing the deal with his new investors from Beijing, China. He was eager to collect the whopping one hundred billion dollars if they were to invest in the new fusion campaigns to generate clean energy. It was an account he worked on along with Charles Fabray, for three months, and today the papers would be signed and the money would be transferred to his overseas account by twelve midnight. The untraceable money would then double that morning as it entered the market again transferring it to his company in America.

This was something he did often, it was highly illegal—he was _double dipping_.

Sr. Evans had his hands full now running Fabray-Evans by himself as the sole CEO. He slowly but surely took over the reigns of the Fabray accounts and tripled the worth of his stocks, meaning his name was pure gold on the wall—everybody wanted a piece of him.

This feeling—the power that he managed to obtain was extremely worth it, he was on top of the world again—his word was law on Wall Street and he did not regret a single thing he did to get there.

Sure, he missed his old friend Charles, but what's done is done and clearly the weaker man stepped down—Sr. Evans had learned just that when he made his first million, this business was not for the weak and certainly not for friendships. It was a constant competition to get the larger share quicker than the next—you don't need friends for such things.

Although, he regretted Charles turning to suicide—Sr. Evans decided his decision was for the best of the company and _him_, since nobody had to get their hands dirty in the process.

Everything worked in his favor.

He never spoke of the conversation he had with Charles before he died, the last words he spoke to him still played back to him from time to time. It was after, Charles found out about the accounts he kept oversees, about all the money he was keeping hush in untraceable accounts. Charles wanted him to give them up, make the money disappear so they could both walk away with their hands clean, since he now knew of them he was accessory. Charles didn't want his name attached to such mockery, and he pleaded Evans to turn in the money. If the jury voted against them, the company would be done—eliminated, not to mention the healthy sentences they both would face.

Sr. Evans however would always be greedy, and decided he needed a diversion—a well thought out plan.

_If only you could step out in front of this Charles, and I could do the rest get the jury off our backs for a while—we both come out wealthy men. Sr. Evans told him._

Charles would never look at him the same after that.

"_What's your number, Dean? See I found out everybody in this business has a number where they can stop and just walk away from it all and it's usually an exact number, so what is yours? When will you stop?"_ _Charles asked. It was a question that genuinely struck Dean, however it didn't take him too long to answer._

"_More.." Charles scoffed at his answer._

"_You'd shed blood to keep this money and this company, but all the money in the world isn't gonna keep you from your demise, Evans…"_ That was the last thing he said to him.

Sr. Evan leaned back in his desk chair, his right hand smoothed down the blond graying hair at the top of his head. He rested back, with his arms propped behind his head looking at the view of NYC beneath him.

"Looks like you were wrong after all, Fabray." He relaxed for a bit longer, until he heard a knock at his door. _Right on time._

In walked a man in a black Italian tailored suit, a manila folder tucked under his arm in a protective manner.

The two men shared a quick glance before the other closed the door behind him, immediately Sr. Evan stood to collect his very expensive information.

They exchanged a manila envelope for another one—one in which Sr. Evan handed over seven hundred thousand dollars, it was only change to him and after taking use of these tips he would easily make it back in mere seconds.

It was a quick transaction, the man left without a word, and Sr. Evans was left to smile slyly at the papers in his lap.

"My. My. what do we have here Mr. Jones….?"

_And more was exactly what he would be getting._

* * *

Mr. Jones kept Sam on his toes, the next following days. To Sam's surprise he was the first to call him to join him for golfing in the back yard that was connected to a golf course, he was to join the rest of the Jones men; Dwayne's dad, older brother David and his two younger brothers Cory and Matthew. Sam immediately thought of ways he could die and her father would cover it up to look like an accident. His kindness, scared him a little.

"Stop being a baby, and go play golf with the man.." Mercedes practically pulled him from the bed that morning, before she was to go shopping with her grandma Dorothy, mom and two aunts Cicley and Patrice. Mercedes has already tried to peep her dad's game on why he felt the need to include Sam in everything now.

His only response was, "I have to at least try and since he's still here taking up my space I might as well humor him." She knew it was her father's way of saying, _he's alright until he does something to piss me off. _Which was what she would settle for, for now.

The rest of her family was surprised and they did not bluntly talk about the boy to his face—they slowly came around to acknowledging he was married to Mercedes and that they seemed okay together. Sam immediately got the women's vote when Sam took it upon his self to entertain the little children—doing all his impressions of cartoon characters.

After Mercedes finished getting ready she gave him a quick kiss to the forehead and made her way downstairs to the vehicle that awaited her.

Sam pulled the covers back over his head when he heard the door to their bedroom open, already tired of Mercedes empty threats if he didn't move.

"I'm getting up Mercy, stop rushin..jeez.." Sam sighed accordingly, when he didn't hear her voice for a while he figured she was still waiting for him to move.

"I'd get up a lot quicker if I could just get a little Mercy ti….Mr. Jones…ohh." Sam's green eyes met the slightly amused brown ones of Mr. Jones, already in his attire, he watched Sam taking a seat by the door. He hid himself with the comforter again, praying it was only a dream.

"Strike one, Samuel…that's strike one.." Mr. Jones smiled shaking his head in disbelief at what he just heard. He eyed down Sam one last time before walking out of the bedroom.

"You got ten minutes, Samuel." He spoke over his shoulder.

* * *

Quinn wasn't sure if she was just being irrational or if she really wanted to take her foot and voluntarily shove it up Mr. Evans ass.

He was nonetheless an asshole to her.

She had only been working here in her father's old office for four days, and the only things she had done was play babysitter to all the small business investors, Mr. Evans doesn't feel the need to deal with. He even advised her to wear revealing blouses and tight skirts to get the job done—she had the right mind to go into his office, use his mail opener to shove right into his throat, _no Quinn that's murder—too many witnesses_. She thought.

In the board meetings she was always talked over when voicing her ideas about a particular route they should take in investing in different areas of country resources. Mr. Evans even told her bluntly to her face, her opinion is not really wanted or needed—that she needed to let the big boys handle the work.

Sam's father or not, she wanted his blood. If she only knew how much she thought like him. Quinn closed her laptop to start putting her things away when a knock was heard at her door.

"Come in." Quinn tried to sound polite, but after the last meeting she barely had any strength left—she had a daughter to go home to after all.

"Miss Fabray, these came in for you." Rachel the floors head assistant came in with two fed ex boxes. The smile she gave Rachel was warm and she thanked her, however Rachel lingered in her doorway for a second.

"Is there something else, Miss Berry?" She started to open one of the packages, as the assistant nervously stood in her doorway.

She started to open her mouth only to close it again before speaking.

"I saw the way Mr. Evans treated you in there." Rachel nodded towards Mr. Evans' door. Quinn tried to drop the frown, but it just came so easily at the mention of him.

"And?" Quinn tried to sound uninterested.

"I just wanted to say that he treats all women in general inferior—it's not just you." Rachel spoke with more confidence, her posture straightened and she actually looked Quinn in the eye. It was a first for her in this company.

"I know that Miss Berry, I've seen how he treats his wife. I'm aware he is a disgusting misogynistic pig." Quinn spoke matter of factly. She couldn't help but notice when she spoke to Rachel her eyes lit with a type of fire—it intrigued her.

"Well then, I just didn't want you to feel singled out among everyone." Rachel dropped her head again, Quinn noted.

"Point taken then." Quinn's voice sounded detached as she opened one of packages. Dropping her mail opener on her desk, she blew out another annoyed sigh when Rachel still stood in her doorway.

"Yes..Berry.."Quinn pushed the boxes away from her to give her, her full undivided attention.

She watched Rachel nervously move in front of her, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

"I just thought maybe you needed some advice since I've been here almost two years. If you want to get anywhere with him, it's best if you adopt his way of thinking. Meaning you need to gain his trust—bring in a big corporate investor and surely he will give you the respect that you deserve. It's all about the money, Miss Fabray." Rachel smiled briefly before finally closing the door to Quinn's office.

Quinn took the piece of advice, looked at her clock on her desk and noticed it was a little after four—she had noticed a lot of things around here happened on a schedule. Quickly she left her office and just like she thought a man in an all black suit was getting back on the elevator to go down. She had played close attention that he only would come in and drop off a thick manila package for Mr. Evans and leave with out saying a word to anyone.

To most, they probably thought it was just another side business deal for Mr. Evans, but Quinn knew better than most—she had a feeling something was fishy was happening and she wanted details.

"Miss Fabray did you need something?" She heard Rachel call out to her, she quickly brushed her off making a straight pathway to Mr. Evans office. Whatever the package was, Quinn thought he was stupid to just have it delivered to his desk. The door wasn't even locked, Quinn slipped in and took survey of the room. The envelope was nowhere in sight, and she figured she had limited time on her hands she started her search immediately.

Stopping in front of two tall doors of a mahogany cabinet, she checked to see if they were locked—they weren't.

Opening them, she saw the four flat screens and right underneath them was the package.

Quinn wasted no time in opening it to see what the contents were—she was beyond surprised Mr. Evans would go so far.

There in her hands were papers listing the investors information to Mr. Jones company. Account numbers and passwords to stock accounts all resting her hands—Quinn thought of her plan at once.

She wanted to destroy Mr. Evans, and using this she could do it almost overnight—killing two birds with one stone, taking out the Jones-Anderson company as well. Quinn smiled to herself, when she thought of Mrs. Evans deal she made to her. She would be taking it after all.

_Neither will even see it coming_, Quinn thought.

* * *

Sam saw the folded clothes stacked neatly on a desk in his room and wondered if Mr. Jones intended for him to wear them. They hadn't been there before and when Sam actually saw Mr. Jones leave his room his attire had been similar.

It took him less than ten minutes to put on the dark blue jeans, and long sleeve shirt and black jacket. He noticed these weren't golfing clothes, when he put on the black leather gloves—his curiosity mixed with fear got the best of him.

Finally making it out back, he saw the other men in similar clothing as he, and they all stood by not golf clubs or carts but BMW motorcycles. Sam immediately took note of the models as him and Derek talked models all the times.

He watched Mr. Jones suit up in his black and red biking jacket and with a tilt of his head, all eyes were on Sam again. His first reaction was to back away slowly, however Derek came and took Sam to a motorcycle off by itself with a helmet resting on its seat.

"This is for you dude, and no it won't blow up or anything like that." Derek gave him a hard pat on the shoulder, Sam didn't miss the hint of a smile on Mr. Jones face when he took in the black and chrome bike in front of him.

"This is a BMW s1000rr—fastest speed of 305 kph, inline-4 engine which can be red-lined at over 1420000 rpm—they're not even suppose to be out until next month." Sam spoke under his breath, still in complete awe.

"If you're still alive after this—you can have it, as a late wedding gift." Mr. Jones spoke again, the faint smile more apparent as he placed his helmet over his head—signaling for the others to follow.

"But Mercedes will never….agree—" Sam stopped himself, and hopped onto the bike to follow the others out.

They all started off slow, riding in a line until they came to another clearing that looked to be suitable for racing. The road leading off was rough, Sam figured no golf would be done today.

Derek who rode in front of him, stopped just before joining the rest of the Jones' men and spoke quietly to his dad. Sam watched the interaction and was hit with instant confusion when Mr. Jones motioned for him to come over. The rest of the men watched Sam carefully as he made his way over, walking his bike beside Mr. Jones.

"Derek tells me you use to race." Mr. Jones looked in between Derek and Sam, Sam really didn't know how to react beside a swift nod.

"Are you any good, I mean can you go against me?" Mr. Jones spoke more pointedly at Sam.

And Sam was confident, he won most if not all his races—but that was a long time ago, Mercedes would kill him if she knew he got back on a motorcycle to race. His last race put him in a hospital with a broken leg and shattered wrist.

"I believe we will see, sir." Sam confidently smiled, and surprisingly the other men along with Mr. Jones smiled back.

"Once around the trail and then back, cool with that Sam?" Derek looked between the men as they suited up and turned on their bikes.

They both answered with a quick nod and moved side by side, both revering up the gas to start.

"If you win..Evans..I may even let you call me Dwayne." That got a cough out of Derek.

Sam took it as, _Challenge accepted_, he waited anxiously for Derek to give the signal to start.

He planned to win.

* * *

_**My apologies for any errors I missed while writing this, I hope you like the bit between Nana Evans and Bethany. She'll pop up a bit more, in due time-I'll reveal Quinn and Mrs. Evans plans in the next chapter, **__**things seem to be okay for the couple now, but I wouldn't get too comfortable that angst I was talking about well yeah...oh and don't worry about Quinn trying to take Sam from Mercedes she interested in somebody else, lol.**_


	7. Positive The plan was set

_**Positive / the plan was set.**_

"Dad! I can't believe this, everything I believed was a lie.." Derek took off his helmet, already smitten with laughter.

Derek had not let up about watching Sam come back into the trail first, beating Mr. Jones whom was not far behind, actually he was really close. The race started with Mr. Jones in the lead, but when Sam finally got the hang of the new bike he fell back into familiarity and quickly caught up to Mr. Jones. It was anybody's game as the others watched the two ease their way out in front of the other to only be side by side later. Sam didn't have time to take in the quarter of a million dollar bike, he was only interested in one thing and that was to win. He would have to deal with Mercedes later, but this was more important.

"Dad, you lost by like this much—this much dad. Man I cannot believe Sam's ass did it. I could never beat you." Derek turned off his bike when he noticed the other ladies were all standing outside enjoying drinks. He went over taking off his helmet and kissed his mother on the cheek—he hesitated before approaching Mercedes who had stopped talking mid sentence when she caught sight of Sam walking beside his bike.

Mr. Jones looked for Sam's reaction and caught on immediately.

"Enjoy the late wedding gift, Samuel." Mr. Jones spoke loud and clear over everyone, his eyes rested on Mercedes face. He went over to kiss and hug his wife, who held his already prepared drink.

"Uhhh, I can explain this…" Sam started, unzipping the jacket he noted she folded her arms across her chest and her pointed expression didn't change at all.

"Your dad gave it to me…Mercy, what am I suppose to do give it back?" He sighed frustrated, when she turned on her heels to walk back into the house—an indication for him to follow Sam raked his fingers through his hair as he heard the low whistles from all the men.

"Damn, it was nice knowing you Sam." Derek held up a fist toward Sam, instantly receiving chuckles from the other men.

* * *

"Mr. Evans going in there we need to let them know the execution of the solar energy project is what should be focused on, not any empty brain scheme to trade with oil companies like BP."

Quinn clutched her portfolio in her hands, as the group of board trustees headed for the conference room. The potential investors all the way from Beijing, China had flown in earlier looking for a new stock share to add to their companies all over China. Mr. Evans initially put the new guy, Finn Hudson on the case, but Quinn knew more about the execution and she knew more on how she could sell it to the Chinese, she just had to let Mr. Evans know it.

"That's questionable on its own Fabray, have any of the theories on your project been tested as an actual advance? Maybe in another five years tops, but big cash cows like BP are where to go." Finn shot her a questioning glare as he returned to Mr. Evans who seemed only annoyed.

"Can you prove that boy genius? It has been stated in multiple areas of science it is where we are heading for the near future, clearly your ideas are outdated, Hudson." Quinn briefly flashed a warning smile when she noticed Finn was not backing down, he was smarter than he let on, but still dumber than most.

"You know what, cut the shit you two. These men are here today to know what our projectiles are on the energy stocks we offer, they are putting down fifteen billion across the board if we can sell this to them. Moreover, I want them here—that fifteen billion is to go here, understand. Hudson you're leading on this project—and that's final Fabray." Mr. Evans looked between the two once more before retrieving his briefcase from Rachel.

Quinn tried to mask the uneasiness, and pure hatred she held for Mr. Evans but Finn noticed it.

"Don't worry Quinn—I'm sure there is somebody out there willing to hear your ideas." Finn held the door open for her, giving her another small grin.

"Oh eat me, Hudson." Quinn scowled at him before passing by him to enter the boardroom.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Mercedes closed their bedroom door, already making her way toward him poking her finger into his chest for an explanation.

"What do you mean? What am I doing? I'm tryna bond with the man—he approached me first.." _And the first strike_, Sam thought.

"And you go and race him—really Sam, do you remember what happened the last time you raced, huh?" Mercedes walked him back, all the way to their bed.

"Yes, but… Oh come on… I didn't get hurt—I won, I beat him, Mercy I'm in there." Sam fell back onto the bed, just basking in his win and his one step closer off Mr. Jones list.

"What's the point of getting in there, if you're dead Sam." Mercedes spoke nonchalantly, Sam looked up from his relaxed pose on the bed to see her hand residing on her hips—she was serious, and that crumbled his resolve, but didn't take away his initial high of winning.

"Come here…" Sam dropped his smile for a second to placate her same sadden one—his pout always worked.

"No." Mercedes took a step back, her arms now folded submissively across her chest.

"Come here, babyyy—I'm tryna apologize." Sam begged again, in his most pitiful softest voice.

"Oh, I'm listening. From. Right. Here." Mercedes replied. She took another step back, this time to lean against her vanity.

"Fine, we can do it your way then." Sam stood up from the bed, arching a brow at her he closed off the space between the two. He kneeled down a little, his darkening green eyes fixated on her brown ones the entire time—he fell to his knees in front of her.

"What are you doing?" Mercedes touched his chin with her finger, a smile threatened to show on her face.

"What are…"

"I'm saying, I'm sorry—I know how you feel about the bike and I do not want you to be worrying about me. I'm not racing ever again. Don't be mad at me." His forehead rubbed against her stomach, just taking in her scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Wrapping his strong arms around her middle, he could already fill her body give in.

"Samuel Evans apologizing… Woow, that was fast, a record almost…" Mercedes spoke, her giggles now more apparent, she tried to squirm her way from him, when she felt him start to tickle her sides. She tried swatting his fingers away, but she was trapped.

"Yes woman, brag all you want—now let me finish my apology…" His teeth found the band of her panties through the fabric of her dress. He secured her hips in his hands, trapping her against the vanity while he tried so teasingly to lift her dress up.

"Sammm, we can't. not now." Her words slurred together, and her breathing caught in her throat when she felt his fingers softly trail their way up her legs. Bunching her maxi dress piece my piece, his lips already leaving kisses at her inner thighs.

"Will you stop—my dad is right down stairs…shit samm." He wanted to tease her like hell, since she had gotten him here. Samuel Evans Jr. on his knees apologizing, his father would not like the sound of it.

When she tried to pull her panties back up, he pulled harder.

When she started to clench her legs shut, his grip was tighter holding them open.

When his tongue swiped her slick opening from back to front, she shivered.

He won.

"What was that…now?" Sam tightened his grip on her inner thighs, his lips now lingered in slow pecks against her skin. Her eyes fluttered close, when she felt him spread her legs a bit more, wasting no time to tease her he dived right in, in search of her release.

Knowing their time would be limited, and also he wasn't sure if the doors were locked—but now he craved for something sweet and she would give it to him.

Mercedes threw her held back, she bit down hard on her bottom lip to muzzle in the pleasuring whimpers. She gripped the wood underneath her when she felt him slip two fingers inside, curving to find that exact spot that would send her over the edge.

Mercedes tried so hard to get the words out that she was close—a familiar feeling washed over her she tried to stop herself from pulling away from him.

Panting heavily, she decided to help guide his tongue where she needed it to be, where she wanted it—Sam sensed her dismay and began lapping circles around her swollen clit.

"Cedes! Mom needs you in the kitchen." Mercedes hands dropped, quickly covering her mouth when she felt Sam's teeth graze her clit. Her squeal almost heard by Derek.

She tried to control her breathing to answer her brother, but it only made Sam speed up, pumping his fingers in her more.

"Yesss…" Her voice low and erratic. She caught Sam's questioning green eyes on her again—which brought her back to the present. _Oh he enjoyed that, asshole_.

"I mean, yeahbethereinaminute…" Her words rushed out, she tried to find her voice again.

"Aight, cool." Derek answered.

She bucked her hips, trembling as her release gushed down onto Sam's tongue.

He met her lips in slow kiss, letting her taste how sweet she was. Grabbing her panties off the floor, he nibbled at her lips a few more times before dropping them into her awaiting hands.

"Mercy…You'll be needing these…" Sam pressed his lips to her jaw line, already kissing his way to her shoulder.

"Asshole.." Sam pulled back a little to see the small smile forming at her lips, her breathing returning to normal.

"And you love me for it…" He pressed his arousal against her.

"I do.." She gripped his backside to pull him flush against her.

"And Sam.."

"Yeah babe.." His face was still nuzzled snuggly in her crook of her neck, his tongue tasting her soft skin.

"If I hear about this again. I'll kill you myself—you are not leaving me to raise our child alone because you like to race every once in a while." Mercedes' voice lowered into a gentle whisper, while she played with the short blond hair at his nape. She felt his fingers trail down the sides of her arms stopped briefly and his lips parted from her neck immediately.

"What?" Sam looked into her brown eyes with just a hint of seriousness.

"You heard me." Mercedes took both his hands in hers to bring them up to her face.

"What do you mean—where did that come from…Mercy are you? Are you telling me…"

"I think I am—well my mother seems to know I am. I just need to take a test, which I have in my bag now." She released an anxious sigh, when she witnessed Sam's eyes widened—they were fixated on her stomach.

"Are you still breathing?" Mercedes poked him in the chest when he didn't move again, it was like he froze in place. His green eyes still glared at her stomach, she couldn't read his reaction much.

"Sam? Sammmm. MOM! Mom, I think Sam is in shock!" Mercedes tried to move him again, but still no sign of reaction on his end, she walked around him to their bedroom door and called for her mother again—Sam still didn't move.

"I didn't even take the test yet and you're already acting crazy…" She walked him back to the bed, where he fell back his eyes still wide and alert, but at least he was moving again.

"Why would he be in shock, baby?" Debra entered the room with Derek in tow.

"This is why he is in shock, I haven't even taken it yet." Mercedes pulled the small box out of her bag to show her mother the unopened pregnancy test.

"Yeah, just gonna leave this between you three.." Derek backed out of the room again, closing the door gently.

Debra now took her time shaking Sam out of his fog, by repeatedly calling his name and with a little force she slapped him a few times to see if that would work. Mercedes left to go take the test.

"She's pregnant isn't she?" Sam spoke for the first time since Mercedes left.

"Yeah, she has that glow about her, I suspected it when you two arrived—and I'm her mother so…" She grinned a bit when Sam moved to sit up straight. He took a deep breath before resting his hands in his lap. He just needed a moment to collect his thoughts. However he was anxious and hearing Mercedes move about in the bathroom was not helping to calm him.

"Is this happy or—?" She asked, Debra could tell something was stirring in Sam at the moment and the tears that were forming in his eyes had her wondering.

"Oh—ye—yes—yes mam." Debra opened her arms when Sam fell against her, he actually hugged her middle tighter when she tried to stand, both laughed nervously, when they heard Mercedes impromptu singing in the bathroom.

* * *

After dinner, Mercedes was stuck in the kitchen with her mother and aunts as the men decided to all disappear into the study behind the stairs. Sam was hesitant when Derek told him he was more than welcome and that Dwayne had a few words for him, now that the news of a grandchild on the way was spread.

Nothing significant had really changed between the two, only now did Mr. Jones acknowledge his existence around Mercedes. That was a step up from Evans.

"Does he hate me still?" Sam asked Derek as he watched him take a cigar out of a wooden box, cutting the edge.

"Yes. But can you blame him?" Derek took two puffs from it before offering it to Sam. They never had the conversation, but it was understood.

"No.." Declining the cigar, Sam dropped his head down—finally taking in the blame of what he did to Mercedes—what he practically forced upon her. Even thought she would deny it Sam knew Mercedes wanted her mother and father there at the ceremony. She wanted them to be apart of the wedding apart of everything, and she most certainly wanted her dad to walk her down the aisle. He remembered her talking about that one moment she wanted to have with her dad, if nothing else.

He knew what keeping them in secret was doing to her, yet he never addressed it. She tried to be as strong as him, but he saw it hurt her to hide things from her family. He really didn't care how his family took it, only that they respect him to give him space in his life. Watching her today around her family he got to know another part of her, he got to understand her just a little better and that made the guilt hit him hard. He was so deep in his own thoughts he didn't notice when Dwayne entered the office—Derek eased out to finish his cigar outside.

"You should have a seat." Dwayne gestured at the armchair in front of his study.

He complied, dropping his guarded looks Sam figured this was coming.

"Sir, I." Sam closed his mouth abruptly when he saw Mr. Jones take a seat behind his desk. No longer were his eyes friendly—they stared back him menacingly.

"I'm ready to hear the apology. Can't say I'll accept it, but I'm all ears."

"I have a lot to say—I just don't know where to start." Sam admitted, and that got a chuckle out of Mr. Jones.

"You should start from the beginning. Is this marriage real or, is this some twisted game you're playing with her? I'm trying to understand this pull you have on her."

Sam cringed at his tone, but decided he would not let his words hurt him.

"With all due respect sir, it was never a game with Mercedes. I can admit this now that everything you have heard…I have done vile malicious things and the reputation I had back then was true—but I've changed, she's changed me and I'm here now apologizing and I'm being completely honest when I say I love Mercedes, I really love her."

"So..her lying to me repeatedly—going behind my back was just all for love then? You can see why I think the thought of that is a bit revolting."

"Yes, I understand your dismay with me completely. And I take full responsibility for that—I should have been man enough to come to you sooner about us—I was a coward, an embezzle to think I deserve a woman like her, that I still do. I'll never fully understand why she said yes to me."

Sam watched Mr. Jones lean back in his chair, his eyes rested on the glass cabinet of model weapons.

"Whoa, Samuel leave the name calling to me. I can assure you me and the misses have said quite enough about you. I'm just trying to understand your motives here. My daughter has never done anything of the sort until she met you, an Evans—me and your father have sort of a history.

"Yes sir, I'm aware."

"Then you know why I wanted to do nothing more than to find you when I got word of what you two had done and use that little shiny number right there—still kinda do." Mr. Jones spoke honestly, his smug expression never faltered—Sam nodded, a bit afraid but he understood.

"But as you can see I'm not—it's too messy, and now that I see for myself Mercedes is actually pretty fond of having you around—I wouldn't want to break her heart neither should you—would we Samuel?" Mr. Jones moved from his seat before standing in front of the glass cabinet—he touched the lock shaking his head at something before taking a seat at the corner of his desk. Sam noted his closeness.

"No sir."

"That's good to hear.." He laughed absurdly at Sam's tone before reaching forward to pat him on the shoulder.

"So is this you giving us your blessing then?" Sam tried to hold back the smile that threatened to show, but he had to be certain before he started his celebration.

"Damn I'm getting soft—I like you Samuel and I'll deny it if you say something to Derek about it but for right now, you're okay in my book. And like I told Mercedes earlier, if you do something to piss me off in other words if Mercedes comes to me and I see as much as a tear on her cheek—**_Run and Fast_**."

Mr. Jones lowered his voice at his last words and he gave him one of trademark smiles, he tilted his head toward Sam again before rising to his feet.

"Understood."

* * *

"Your deposit should be available by tomorrow at midnight, Mrs. Evans." The banker handed her the deposit slip receipt—Bethany hugged the fur minx around her tighter as she tried to conceal her face from the others behind her—exiting the bank for the second time today.

Quinn had called her two days ago and informed her of a deal she wanted her to partake in. It was the deal of a lifetime—and it would make Bethany richer than she had ever dreamed.

The plan was simple—release the account and pin codes to all Mr. Jones investors, there the shares of his company would be dispersed meaning he would no longer own a stake in the company therefore declaring bankrupt, his company would no longer be safe, so investors would run—Mr. Jones would be taken care of—the end, he would be finished. However the evidence would somehow have to be linked back to the Fabray-Evan's company as the hacker and leak of the information—meaning immediate termination. If caught with such information—selling information like that on the market would get you twenty years plus on fraudulent charges of theft and insider trading. Quinn had to find a way to make the leak come from this company—mainly Mr. Evans.

And that's were Bethany got her next idea.

"Samuel has a Swiss account set up overseas, that would tie him back to the company—his father started it when he first started working at the company—we could transfer the codes to the account.." Bethany was definitely smarter than she looked.

"But it would make Sam look like the inside trader the account is in his name—he would be known as the exact reason Mr. Jones company will go bankrupt." Quinn pieced together her ulterior plan.

"Exactly, Mercedes will learn of her husbands great betrayal and hopefully she'll be so heart broken she'll leave him. Getting that fucking Jones out of my hair for good. Samuel will just have to get the fuck over himself—if he honestly thought I would ever accept her into this family." Bethany declared.

Quinn frowned at her lewd ideas, she watched Mrs. Evans pour herself a glass of red wine.

"Remember everything is replaceable—my worthless cheating husband, gone. That self righteous, goody of a daughter in law—gone, that is once our plan is put into motion. I can walk away with my half shares of the company and see Dean off to prison for fraud and insider trading. All will be good." Bethany reiterated.

"Can you hear yourself, you're okay with sending your son to federal prison for a crime he didn't even commit..?" Quinn asked bewildered, suddenly she wasn't too keen on the scheme of things—but she was sure she wanted to nail Dean Evans to the wall. She would be doing this for her father, but mostly for her and she most definitely did not want Sam to get in the cross fire of it all.

"Quinn, honey keep up. The account is under Sam's name however he can not get the funds in the account until he turns twenty five—so any activity on that account will be traced back to my husband not Samuel." Bethany smiled widely again, tilting the wine glass toward Quinn again.

"We just need Sam's signature." Quinn stated, she started searching her contacts to find Sam's number.

"I shall leave that part up to you, I'm sure you can get it from him."

* * *

"Oh my goddd..cedes! Blaine! Blaine! Cedes is pregnant! We're gonna have a little diva!"

"Trouty finally did it…"

Mercedes held the phone away from her ear taking in Kurt and Santana's over reactions at the email she sent them just five minutes ago. She had been packing her and Sam's belongings when her phone started to buzz on her nightstand.

_She stopped midway into folding one of Sam's shirts, pressing it against her middle she looked questioningly at her appearance in the mirror—pondering on how she would look with a protruding round belly._

_After the tortuous waiting of a mere three minutes, the test proved her mother right and sent Sam into another episode of rambling aimlessly to himself._

_Mercedes had walked out of the bathroom to find Sam's arms wrapped tightly around her mother in a hug—and she was trying to get him to just breath and relax. He looked to be having a nervous break down which scared Mercedes a bit since she would need him more than anything now finding out she was with child. But her mother trademark smile and giggle broke her out of the fog._

"_Your father was much worse when I told him about Derek…" Debra continued to rub soothing circles on Sam's back. Sam immediately stopped rocking back and forth on the bed when he caught sight of Mercedes again—he rushed to her side peppering her face with gentle kisses and pleas of endearment._

"_I love you." Sam kissed the tip of her nose, causing her to scrunch up at the simple gesture. He moved to her cheek her other, then her chin and planted a lingering one at her forehead._

"_I love you." He spoke into her hair, he could already feel her lips spread into a smile against his chest—he just held her close to him. He just wanted to be close to her, to be close to his little family._

"_And we love you too."_

"She's not even listening to you, Kurt.."

Mercedes jumped when she heard Santana voice—startling her from her thoughts she grimaced at the phone in front of her before answering.

"She better—I'm talking exclusive baby wear with my designs, and no Blaine I'm not getting carried away…this is just the start."

"He or she is not even here yet, in due time Kurt.." Mercedes heard Blaine say.

"Thank you Blaine." Mercedes managed to get in over Kurt again. She took more of Sam's clothes out of the drawers to put in his suitcase when she saw the bathroom door was open meaning Sam was finish with his shower.

She didn't question him when his fingers found her side or when his arms wrapped around her middle in a small hug her back to his bare front, she just took in every moment he held her like this.

She was use to him doing this randomly now.

"Good shower?" She placed her hands over his that were resting just above her stomach.

"Yep.."

"Are you gonna let go of me now…"

"Hmmm..nope…" He kissed her temple.

"How am I suppose to pack with you attached to me? Mercedes spoke in between giggles when she felt him nibble at her neck, his fingers tickled her sides.

"Pack later, I need my Mercy time..." He slipped a hand under her shirt.

"Just wanky you two.." Sam frowned into Mercedes shoulder when he heard the voice.

"Yeah, I'm hanging up now. I do not need a play by play as to how this baby was conceived." Kurt's dial tone was heard first, then Santana after wishing the couple a good night was next.

Sam had finally gotten Mercedes to cave in, he now hovered on top of her trailing kisses from her clavicle to the slit of her cleavage. He was about to enjoy the glorious twins he adored so much when their bedroom door flew open.

With Sam's luck, it was Mr. Jones.

"Well Debra you wanted to know what the couple was up to…how did I know I might see something like this?"

"Did you really just barge in like that?" Debra asked.

"It's my damn house…barge in where ever I like.." Dwayne signaled for Sam to leave at once, which he had no problem with doing as soon as he found some clothes—the towel only covered so much.

"I'll go downstairs to see Derek, yeah Derek.." Finally slipping a shirt over his head, he tried with ease to slip out of the room past Mr. Jones smug expression.

"You do that..he's in the office." Dwayne closed the doors behind him.

* * *

**Tadaa..she's pregnant, lol. And yes there will be more on Kurt and Santana and yes brittany,-she will have a part in some of the drama, nothing bad on her part...**

**And yes Sam in ways is JUST like his father, you will see that side. I apologize for any mistakes I missed. Hope you enjoy. **


	8. His last trade

_**Flashbacks are italicized, just a quick note. Hope you enjoy.**_

* * *

_**His last trade.**_

They left with a new understanding—they left with the Jones' blessing even if Dwayne would never say it aloud. Sam knew he didn't have to say it with words—he tended to show it. Which was funny since , almost a year ago Sam couldn't get the man to stop and talk to him. He remembered the first time he introduced himself.

_The famous Dwayne Jones would be speaking today at the University Of California. The school booked him immediately and it was all the campus business majors talked about—the business department idolized the man because of his smart, legit business deals._

_It was that day Sam made the decision to follow him. He skipped out on working with Quinn and gave her some bullshit excuse to cover for him, he showed up with Mike to watch the mastermind at work—his future father in law. _

_His lecture was insightful, and Sam had to admit he was a very charming man also very blunt with his advice. But to Sam, Dwayne Jones was all the things a Wall Street man was not._

"_One of my old colleagues reminded me of something I once said before leaving Lima, Ohio, Greed is good. And now after a few billion.."_

"_It's legal…" The audience laughed at the reference joke but some still held their heads high recording everything he said._

"_But it is greed that makes us buy things we can't possibly afford, it is greed that puts us in that hole that is debt. Greed that makes us buy those flat screens, SUVs, houses on the beach and hell a new wardrobe to top it off. But it's greed that leads up to reprocessing, mortgages, refinancing loans."_

_The audience stood up and clapped at his speech, Sam stood too, but not missing Mike who whispered something to him. _

"_That's your father in law right there." Mike nudged him with his shoulder. Sam smiled briefly at his usage of words._

_Once it was over, everyone was crowding around Mr. Jones holding up tape recorders and cameras trying to get their last bit of advice from him, as he made his way out and down the stairs to his car. The questions of what the next big break, or what is the new trade on the wall—Sam had to get in there, he had to meet the father of his fiancée._

"_Mr. Jones…" Weaving his way through the crowd he barely touched him._

"_Mr. Jones can I speak with you for a moment." The crowd didn't let up for him one bit, and he had to leave Mike behind or he would lose him for sure._

"_Go get him, Sam." Mike yelled. Once Sam had made it close enough, it was different because he didn't know what he should say._

"_Mr. Jones, can I speak with you please." He didn't even turn around and Sam knew he was close enough for him to hear._

"_My name is Samuel Evans, and I'm going to marry your daughter." Mr. Jones let up just a little to catch a glimpse of Sam. Sam grabbed onto the stair railing when he finally got him to stop, he watched as Mr. Jones politely dismissed the others away._

"_I know who you are, and does she know that?" He asked._

_Sam held out his hand and Mr. Jones was wary but polite, he moved back quickly sizing him up._

"_She pretended to…She said yes, sir." Sam quickly rerouted his train of thought when he saw the small smile he sported fade._

"_My daughter says yes to a lot of things, Evans. It'll never work out. Good day." Mr. Jones turned around again, walking away from a confused yet stunned Sam._

"_How did it go?" Mike caught up with his buddy, Sam still stood frozen watching Mr. Jones as his car drove away._

Three weeks later, they were back in NY, to visit Kurt.

"Is this necessary? I really don't see the point in going over the details of a baby line…" Sam countered.

Kurt frowned before cutting his eyes to Sam who sat comfortably behind his desk. Mercedes sat in his lap and watched Kurt ramble on about the new secret line for her little diva. They were going through racks of baby one pieces and rompers. Mercedes had already warned Kurt not to get a head of himself, but when they made it to his office he had already prepared two racks of baby clothes.

"Blue or pink?" Kurt held up two different pieces.

"Pink."

"Blue."

Sam and Mercedes eyed each other before answering again. She had her hunches about a boy. Debra even convinced her, as they talked every day since her first doctor's appointment—where it was confirmed she was seven weeks. Mercedes pregnancy started out the exact same way her mother's had—craving a lot of salty foods, and just recently she found out about sour patch kids.

"Don't you mean blue." Mercedes narrowed her eyes at Sam she bit back the smile before returning to Kurt, who thought the interaction was exceptionally cute.

"I know what I said…" Sam spoke dryly. He was convinced it was a girl, because well Mike said so.

"Will you let it go, Sam. Mike is not psychic. It was a joke." Mercedes tried to kiss away his frown at the distant memory but he just turned his lips away from her.

"Nope, I'm still mad about that." Sam crossed his arms defensively in front of him. Kurt snorted into his sleeve, Sam acted like a four year old.

"What is this about? Kurt face was red from laughing at Sam's serious tone.

"Oh god. Don't get him started…Kurt…don't." Mercedes got up, and went to go through the last rack of shirts, turned her back to them both, since she heard it all before.

She even started to mock him when he talked.

She knew each time she did so, it irked him terribly—but when Sam's phone went off for the third time since they had arrived she found herself pushing away the feeling of irritation.

_What could Quinn fucking Fabray possibly want from her husband?_

She tried to hide the disbelief that washed over her when Sam stopped mid sentence to answer it, leaving both Kurt and her behind to answer the call in private. Mercedes was never the jealous one, nor did she want to be but after the first call something had changed, and Sam wasn't talking.

* * *

"You got two fucking minutes, Fabray..."

It was Quinn calling him again, and for the past weeks she had been trying to convince him to join her on a new project for solar fusion energy. He was tempted, that old part of him knew the fusion project well and just like his father he saw the green involved. Quinn even with the knowledge of finding out about Sam's big news—added this would be a wonderful opportunity to make the biggest settlement ever offered to him, and what more than to have a nice little chunk for his new kid's trust fund. Also the icing on the cake, his father knew nothing of the deal, it was tempting. The off side was that he just needed to give Quinn the reigns over his Swiss account, the same account Sam did not acknowledge, because along with his father and his company—Sam shut down his money as well. He wanted nothing to do with it, so the money just sat there—all seven hundred million.

"Are you really serious about this Quinn, because if I find out my father put you up to this…"

"No, and no for the last time. I can assure you I'm working alone on this project—he doesn't even know about it. This will just be between you and me. Which is why I need the account, I can't move this large amount of money on my own, not without him knowing." Quinn's tone with him was suspect on it's own, and Sam had his doubts, but it was one thing he remembered about Quinn. She didn't play about money, at all.

He thought about it, and he thought more about it—one last deal and he would be done. He could walk away thoroughly from the trading, stock sharers, this life. It was only one simple risky deal. One last deal and he could walk away for good with more than he had ever obtained under the Evan's name.

The perfect trade.

"Fine, meet me at Brook's café two blocks from Time Square—bring the papers I have to sign. And you can have the account. I'll set up a new account for the pay out. I don't wanna tell Merce about this yet, so don't go broadcasting my name around. Got it?"

Quinn was quiet for a short moment.

"Uhh, yeah sure. I'm just glad you're behind me on this."

"Don't get too cheeky with me Quinn, this doesn't make us partners or anything, it's just a deal." Sam spoke into the receiver before pressing the end button on his phone. He listened for a moment, and sighed with relief when he heard Mercedes and Kurt were still laughing in the next room.

Grabbing his car keys of Kurt's desk, he kissed his wife on the cheek.

"I have to go look over some contracts, Kurt could you drive Mercy back to the hotel, this may take some time." Sam already had one foot out of his office before Kurt could answer. It wasn't a lie, completely. He just didn't add in the fact that it was with Quinn, which Mercedes had her reservations about.

"I can call a taxi, I'm perfectly capable."

"No. You're not." Sam left with a wave of Kurt's hand, meaning he'd comply to.

* * *

"Don't get too cheeky with me Quinn, this doesn't make us partners or anything, it's just a deal."

Quinn stared back at the phone when she heard the dial tone. She was shocked she finally got him to sign over the account, but now that it was showtime she hoped everything would fall through nicely.

"Is he coming are what?" Bethany looked over Quinn's shoulder.

The guilt Quinn felt was starting to show in her face. It was a pill hard to swallow, once she found out Mercedes was expecting—Quinn now had to think about what damage it could do to Mercedes.

When Sam had told Quinn Mercedes was pregnant it was an accident, and she had been sworn not to mention a word to his mother since he knew they were close—he wanted to tell her and his father on his own time. His time, there wouldn't be one. Sam made it very clear his mother nor his father would not be in his kid's life.

"Well, is he coming to sign them?" Bethany asked again, her tone dripping with aggravation.

"Mercedes is pregnant." Quinn blurted out.

"Good joke Quinny, now is Samuel on his way?" Bethany asked again.

"I'm not joking. Samuel wants to meet me at Brook's café to sign the papers. Are you sure you still wanna go through with this, I don't want to bring him into this—"

"Are you fucking kidding me?! Why didn't he tell me about this!?" Bethany was turning red in the face, pacing nosily.

"So you know what could happen if this continues…there is a baby involved, what ever stupid grudge you have against Mercedes has to end. He's happily married and obviously doesn't want to be fuckin bothered with you…" Quinn didn't realize she was becoming more and more heated just thinking of it. Bethany's plan was stupid to her, and she was glad her involvement with Bethany was almost done.

"I do know what is going to happen, which is why you are going to go down there and let him sign those papers. That stupid bitch finally did it, taken Samuel away from me—I was suppose to know that." Bethany downed the last bit of her champagne, a dry chuckle escaped her. "I'm his mother. He should have come to me, but it's obvious that bitch doesn't want me that child's life either. Fine, but I will get my son back." Bethany snatched her coat off of the back of her chair, she disappeared hastily out of the Quinn's front door, speeding off in her black bmw. She just needed to make a quick stop.

**Where are u?**

**Sent at 3:45**

**Sam E.**

**I'm on my way now.**

**Sent at 3:56**

* * *

After a few more choices Mercedes had enough baby clothes from Kurt's new secret collection, they both decided to get something to eat. Santana had just left her office and was headed their way.

"When is the concert?" Kurt placed a spoon of hot and sour soup in his mouth.

After finding out she was pregnant, Mercedes realized she had already signed on to do four shows—two in New York, and two in Washington. Tickets already sold out within minutes of being released. And her blood work and physical had come back with positive results, so she decided the show must go on. She very much missed the stage since after these performances she would be having to take a break for a good period of time—no one knew she was pregnant yet and after talking it over with Sam she had her own way of breaking the news to her fans.

Mercedes had to change everything from her set, up to stage lights—to something more intimate and more accommodating for her. She was given the brief directions of continuing with her career but to be careful of not over exhausting herself.

"Next week, so I'll be expecting you and Blaine to be front row and center." Mercedes grimaced when she caught whiff of Kurt's food.

"Oh you know I have my tickets missy, me and Blaine will be there. Tina and Mike are flying in too, right?"

"Yep.."

The two looked up at the waiter when he placed a bacon cheddar burger in front of Mercedes. Kurt gave her an astounded look. "Really?"

"What, my son was craving bacon." Mercedes laughed.

"And you just know you're having one?" Kurt was amused.

"Yep, I've been craving salty, sour foods since forever and I have not been having morning sickness, also my skin is pretty fucking flawless—so I'm probably having a boy."

Before Kurt could start preaching about her health, Mercedes phone went off signaling she had an email.

When she opened it, it took a moment before she could register what she was looking at. She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, but there were pictures of Sam—and Quinn.

She received pictures of Sam hugging a distraught Quinn and under the pictures was a text.

"Everything you believed was a lie. Just thought you should see these before I release them to the press."

The number was not familiar to her, but the pictures where definitely of Sam and Quinn.

"What is this about?" Mercedes handed Kurt the phone to show him the pictures. He was taken back by them, knowing the history between Quinn and Sam but he was sure their had to be an explanation.

"I—I don't know, do you know who sent them?" Kurt quizzed, he had waved Santana over to their table but was still nose deep in Mercedes phone.

"No—I've never seen this number." She tried calling it twice, but each time it just rang and rang.

"This is why he ran out of there…?" Kurt took the phone again to cross-examine the pictures. The wheels were turning in his head, but something was still missing.

"What's with the frowns, is the food that bad or…oh what the hell trouty?!" Santana chimed in when Kurt passed on the phone to Santana.

She dropped her bags down in the empty seat beside Mercedes.

"I'll kill em both—that son—"

"No wait. Wait Satan let's not jump to conclusions. We need more proof before we both go all lima heights on his ass."

Kurt noted, just as Santana was about to start rolling up her sleeves to her shirt. Mercedes stopped her.

"This has to be a misunderstanding…Sam wouldn't." Kurt started to take note of how many times he had to defend Sam, just now.

"Something about these pictures aren't right…cedes..these pictures could mean anything. And somebody is obviously bullshitting with you."

"No, I want to talk to him first, this could be—I don't know, I will talk to him. I trust him—I just don't trust her." She already started to dial his phone.

"Bullshit.." Santana jumped in. "Mercedes said herself, something was off—well there's the reason why. We need to take out the blonde bitch and I volunteer." Santana had already ended the conversation, she knew what her plans were tonight.

It went to voicemail twice.

"And….?"

"Voicemail."

"Aw hell naw, Kurt come on, we're dropping off Mercedes and we're finding the bastard. I know exactly where they are." She looked at the phone once more.

"Right."

"No, you two are not. I will talk to him, this could all be a misunderstanding…and if there is a chance at what I don't want to think is true—you two can go all lima heights adjacent on him." Mercedes proposed.

"You told me about their hush phone conversations. Cedes, I don't wanna believe Sam would actually cheat—but now we have proof. Somebody sent those pictures to you, because something is going on and we don't know what exactly…so if I needs to whoop a little bondie ass so she can tell us I will do so, come on Kurt."

"Seriously?" Kurt asked.

"Seriously." Mercedes answered, she didn't want it to show, but her heart dropped when she saw those pictures. She did not want to jump to conclusions, but something in her was looking for this. She didn't trust Quinn, at all.

Also Mercedes knew Quinn had been calling him previously, but always Sam would dismiss the calls or move to another room, only to return minutes later. The calls started when they were in Lima. She didn't want to think he would do _that_ to her but the pictures were too much for her to ignore. She wanted to hear what he had to say, because somebody obviously wanted her to see this, to see them together.

So she tried calling him again, and again.

* * *

"My mother did what!?" Sam pushed himself away from the table him and Quinn were sharing.

Quinn tried to calm him down, but after telling him the whole—well half of the plan she had with his mother, Sam couldn't stop yelling.

As soon as she arrived, Quinn had already decided she would not be responsible for anything dealing with Sam and Mercedes. So as decided, at last minute, she told Sam of his mother's plans but was to leave hers out it.

"She came upon some _information_ about corrupted investors that could put a lot of investment companies under including Evans-Fabray, ideally starting one of the biggest bail outs in history and she was going to release such information. Therefore getting her way of sending Dean to prison and keeping the money of his shares he would be forced to sign over to her since they're still married—she also wanted it to play out that Dean himself leaked the information out on the market. I only agreed to help with getting you to sign your account over to the company, but after you told me about Mercedes I couldn't do it without letting you know the risks."

"She wants to break you and Mercedes up, that's part of her plan Sam. You signing this account over to the company would mean you had a part in this deal—to help bring down your father...and others" Quinn finished. In other times Sam could never take Quinn crying, that would mean she had a heart, that she actually felt something—remorse.

But with his increased heartbeat, he knew his blood pressure was high and didn't have a care in the world for her.

"And this information, how did she get it?"

"I can't say…"

"So with me signing over this account, it would make me look like I had a hand in taking down these say companies. As well as my father?" He quizzed, he could see in her cold green eyes she was just as twisted and a liar like his mother.

"No once you sign it back to the company, all transactions will be traced to your father, not you—I promise you that, your mother however wanted it to be known."

"Your promises mean nothing to me, Quinn never forget that. And I know there is something you're not telling me. I'm sure you have your own reasoning behind selling out my mother."

"Look, I'm trying to help you…I don't want this to ruin anything you have with her..although with this does come the rumors—if this deal goes through there will be plenty talk about your parts in this, I can only help so much. Most people don't know about the account but for the ones that do, will try to place you in it. This could very well be the biggest sellout of the last twelve years. A lot of big names are involved Sam, a lot." Quinn's tone was hushed, and she tried to keep the tears flowing and keep her act.

"And you felt so compelled to tell me this, why didn't you tell me this the first time we talked?"

"….."

Sam didn't understand it, but her silence bothered him to no end, she was still holding something back—which he figured meant she had other plans as well. Sam was always right about her.

"Fine, go through with it, the sooner my father gets a taste of his own medicine the better—I can't say I'm shocked my mother would do something of the sort but I don't care what happens to Evans-Fabray anymore. I have a feeling even Charles would have walked away by now."

"And I will be making sure all of Dean's skeletons are to come out. My father was the best damn thing to happen to that company, and I will clear his name." Quinn regained her stance, her eyes clear of tears—she tossed her hair to the side and covered her eyes with the black designer shades.

He was use to that Quinn.

* * *

"I think everything worked as planned. Sam now knows what his mother is up to, I have his signature and I will finally take down the asshole that is Samuel Dean Evans Sr. Getting the much deserved revenge for my father."

"What about selling Bethany out.?" Rachel asked.

"That was extra, I want to ruin the people who hurt my father including her—Sam and Mercedes relationship is the last thing I could care about, but is the only thing Bethany wants to destroy the most. The bitch is crazy. Sam absolutely hates his mother now—I win again." Quinn reached over the middle compartment of the car and gently grabbed Rachel's chin.

"Thanks for letting me in on Evans little side deal, it was perfect to use against him." She kissed Rachel on the lips tenderly. Who knew working with the annoying spoiled brat, Rachel turned out to be the best plan yet.

Rachel had clued Quinn in on the plan Mr. Evans was working on to end the Jones-Andersons company. She told her about the disclosed meetings and the packages left everyday at the exact same time. She even went as far as to leaving Mr. Evan's office unlocked so Quinn could come in and make quick copies of the papers.

"_I just thought maybe you needed some advice since I've been here almost two years. If you want to get anywhere with him, it's best if you adopt his way of thinking. Meaning you need to gain his trust—bring in a big corporation investor and surely he will give you the respect that you deserve. It's all about the money, Miss Fabray." Rachel smiled briefly before finally closing the door to Quinn's office._

And she did take Rachel's advice. As soon as Finn Hudson chocked on his attempts of getting the Chinese to sign with the company and bring in fifteen billion dollars, Quinn stepped in and snatched the opportunity right up.

"_What my friend is trying to say, Mr. Hoswhitz that even though BP is a big cash cow—their money is not infinite, someday their way of making energy will be obsolete. With this day in age good clean energy is where the real bucks lie, if you could just look over these reports." She handed out prepared portfolios of a newly started energy company that was gaining investors quickly everyday. The fusion project._

_She caught the eyes of Finn Hudson, the death glare he wore was obvious but Mr. Evans had now smiled and ushered for her to continue. Gain his trust, Fabray thought._

"_In China, I'm sure you are looking for a clean way to build your establishments and with our standings and reputation you'll be getting just that—stated directly on page five. In China I know how greatly the clean environment is praised" She smiled sweetly at Mr. Hoswhitz._

"_So we can expect a bigger deal in say a few weeks?" He asked._

"_Of course, your fifteen billion will increase by fifty tops."_

_That is what he wanted to hear._

"_You've got yourself a deal, Evans. I have great feeling this will be gold."_

_When the men left, Finn Hudson dismissed himself immediately—the rest followed leaving Quinn and Mr. Evans alone in the boardroom._

"_You did good, Fabray."_

"_Thanks. I had to step in and do something since your golden boy Hudson was choking." Quinn chimed in, she started to gather the remaining portfolios and her briefcase._

"_Well, I thank you for that—you really reminded me of Charles just then. He was always up to a challenge, and could take a risk.." He spoke with the hint of a chuckle. It caused Quinn to tense up at the mention of her father._

"_Where would we be if people didn't take risk? …and well him and I are nothing alike—but from time to time I understand where he wants this company to go." Quinn fastened up her briefcase, ending her conversation with him._

"Where to now?" Rachel placed both her hands on the steering wheel, she smiled under Quinn's touch.

"I feel like celebrating—how about my father's yacht, I have yet to show you." Quinn lowered her shades lower on her nose her green eyes twinkled with devious intent.

* * *

"Santana if that's you, Sam is not here." Mercedes yelled, tightening her robe around her. She fixed her wet hair in the towel and made her way to the door of her hotel room.

She had only been in the room for a few hours and decided to relax and take a shower. She didn't think about the pictures, or the phone calls—she didn't want to think about Quinn period.

However the person knocking at her door was a bit more anxious.

"Fine, you can…Mrs. Evans?" Mercedes swung the door open expecting to see either Kurt or Santana, hell maybe even Tina since she was sure Kurt had tuned her in.

Mercedes eyed down the woman that made her BP rise. She stood at her front door wearing a simple surely expensive black dress with black pumps. It was different than the usual red pumps, Mercedes thought, The devil has a new dress.

"We need to talk."

"About?"

"What my son is doing behind your back." Bethany didn't miss the strained look on Mercedes face at the mention of Sam. Mercedes took a deep breath and stepped aside to let her mother in law in, it was something she thought she would never do.


	9. Truths & Apologies

**_Yall are amazing, to everyone that messaged me on here and tumblr I used this weekend to type something up. Yall gave me inspiration honestly because I'm doing paper after paper and my finals are next week. I apologize for any missed mistakes._**

* * *

**_Truths & Apologies._**

Santana Lopez had been working as Mercedes Jones manager for the past two and a half years. To say she knew the girl quite well would be absolutely correct. She understood Mercedes quirky ways, OCD rituals and sometimes prima donna attitude. Santana learned to work with them and by doing so it sparked a long-term friendship between the two.

Taking the phone from her jacket pocket, she silenced it when the lights on the grand stage dimmed. The auditioning dancers started to take their respective places on the stage as the audition that would take them from being starving, _hungry_ dancers to stars on a grand stage with the one and only Mercedes Jones. This is the audition that counted the most. Mercedes cleared her throat to let Santana know of her presence, finally back from her second trip to the washroom, her hand clutching a bottle of room temperature water. Her head finally stopped spinning signaling the Tylenol had taken affect.

Santana gave the stage director the cue to start the music, an entire new track from Mercedes new album that had yet to be finished and given a name. Santana wondered if Mercedes was more nervous than the dancers since they were apart of the special group that got to hear the final version of, "I'm yours."

"Ready when you are.."

"Begin."

Counting the steps in her head, Mercedes watched the dancers as they worked their hardest to be noticed first and foremost by Mercedes. Who for some reason couldn't focus on just one. Doing this simple task was somehow hard for her. It was beyond frustrating, that she couldn't control them, her stupid emotions…she couldn't stop them from taking over her body. And she'd be damn if she started crying right here in front of everyone.

"The first three dancers – 2,4,6…can you run the first eight count again?" Santana stood this time, motioning for Mercedes to look toward the stage when she noticed again Mercedes has drifted off elsewhere. Again today Mercedes silently thanked the woman for catching her and bringing her back into her own world, one she actually wished wasn't her current reality.

"The first three have it down exactly…not to mention the tall blonde has some sweet moves." Santana coughed into her hand before taking her seat again, ignoring the looks from the other people on Mercedes panel. "Are you sure you can do this right now…?

"I can and will." It came out harsher than Mercedes intended but at least this time her voice didn't break and it definitely didn't sound vulnerable. She was tired of being treated like she couldn't do her job by her suppose team, and Santana knew better. She wanted to have that control. Mercedes pointed to the first three dancers and gave them the cue to begin again.

* * *

**_Earlier . . ._**

"What did my mother say to you?" Sam asked. He watched Mercedes move about the room, taking clothes from her suitcase to put in a black duffle bag – she normally used for quick runs.

"What were you doing with Quinn?" Mercedes distanced herself from him when she saw him start to approach her, if only for a minute she searched his eyes before moving again. "I…" Sam grimaced before speaking again, going over the whole story in his head, Sam thought what place would be the best to start. "I can explain that." He paused again, closing the door to their bedroom, he realized he couldn't keep this from her, screw Quinn and her secretive deal with his mother. Sam could not keep anything like this from his wife, the same person that trusted him with everything in her. Pacing about the room, Sam tried to grip the right words to start his story. He started to explain what Quinn had told him about his mother's plan for his father's company along with a few others. What destruction would be taking place and he highlighted the fact his father would finally get what was coming to him, payback.

He told her everything from the private Swiss accounts to what he suspected Quinn was really doing, which was getting her revenge on every Evans that wronged her father. The whole time Mercedes listened occasionally nodding for him to continue explaining or slipped out slight gasp when he spoke of his mother. She was relieved, Mercedes didn't think Sam would ever go back to his life with Quinn – however that didn't alleviate the mixed feelings she had in the bottom of her stomach. Something his mother said really struck a nerve in her.

"Am I a bad person because I want my father, my own flesh and blood to rot in prison for the rest of his life for what he has done to Mr. Fabray? Sam exhaled slowly, a thought he had kept to himself when he heard of what his mother had planned, pressing his back against the nearby wall he slid down placing his head in his hands.

"I hate that man so much, he deserves nothing of what Charles has done."

Mercedes by now had taken her place beside him on the floor. On her knees, she looked him over once before nudging him to look up at her, taking each of his hands into hers she made Sam look at her.

She could never tell him to hate his father, Mercedes believed a person possessed the ability to do the right thing, however it was _their_ choice. Sam however, stopped believing that a long time ago. She knew Sam's dad was never the hero, but she also knew when Sam spoke through anger and this was one of those times. She moved in closer to him, allowing him to rest on her shoulder for a moment, it was a simple gesture, but he was grateful for her patience and silence to just think.

"I could have stopped Quinn right then and there. Turned over the account to some charity…I could've stopped it. Quinn would have _listened _to me." Mere whispers to Mercedes ears, she frowned again, but held him close to her. Just the mention of Quinn's name made her stomach turn again. She knew Quinn valued his advice and something like that, so trivial to even think about bothered Mercedes just now.

"Mercy..?" Sam gently spoke, moved to meet her brown eyes again. He softly brushed away the tear at her cheek, searching her eyes again.

"What did my mother want with you?"

* * *

**_Much earlier_**

If Sam were here, his mother would have never stepped foot into their room. She would not have graced them with her presence, Sam felt she never deserved that privilege.

Mercedes had to be different.

"Hm, I'll humor you…come in, Mrs. Evans." Mercedes opened the door more, allowing the woman to make her entrance into the room, coat in hand and gloves off. This was about to get interesting.

Closing the door behind her, Mercedes thanked the heavens above the woman kept her distance between them. She walked around the hotel room eyeing the expensive décor and looked for anything to confirm what she had been thinking about on her way over. And once her eyes found it, it suddenly stuck out to her, a simple pill bottle on the mantle of the fireplace. Bethany Evans eyed the pill bottle down reading each word to herself, she could only roll her eyes at the doctors' name.

"Looking for something?" Mercedes broke the silence first, tip toeing her way to the couch she took her place on the arm.

"Just confirming what I've been told…I guess congratulations are in order for you and my son on this _blessing_. Sam won't be going anywhere will he?" Bethany turned to face Mercedes briefly, gesturing towards the bottle on the mantle.

"We…I was going to tell you both about it…." Mercedes started.

"Oh…and when was that going to be…when you gave birth to the child or after your last concert? How are you going about this exactly…do your adoring fans know about it…some extravagant announcement in the works to E-news and every other station after that? How much are they paying you?" Stepping in front of Mercedes finally she looked the girl down.

"One. I was going to tell you and Dwight face-to-face…and very soon because if it was left up to Sam. You were not going to find out until much much later. Two. I along with my team am working on that, so don't you worry Mrs. Evans. And three. I don't need a dime for anything. I haven't nor will I take a deal to speak about anything on my unborn child. There will be no full spreads on us in the magazines and I very much want my privacy during this time." Mercedes took a deep breath before continuing, she gave Bethany a stern yet appreciative look.

"And why wouldn't Samuel want to tell me of this…I'm his mother." She questioned.

"You'll have to ask him that."

Bethany turned so quickly to look at the view they had from their room. She saw the empire state building and the bright lights from Time Square. And she started to laugh, first quietly to herself to a rambunctious laughter she had to stop herself to breath regularly.

Mercedes watched as the woman tried to compose herself again and wondered just what did she want besides annoy her on this already dreadful day. The woman always came with a purpose each visit. "You'll have to excuse me…today has been quite eventful and I guess everything is catching up with me…but this…this is something I truly didn't see coming." Stopping mid laugh, she looked at the girl who looked beyond puzzled at what was happening and Bethany couldn't help herself by laughing again.

"Who knew one simple fight would have caused this outcome. It is beyond me." Bethany composed herself to smile at Mercedes.

"What are you talking about?" Mercedes folded her arms at her chest, wondered if she should stand for this, because obviously she was missing the entire point.

"Mercedes…deary keep up. This life…this so called perfect life you have with my son would have never taken place if Quinn…well let's just say Samuel has a knack for proposals." Bethany started up again in giggles. This got Mercedes to move again, she knew not to trust nothing this woman ever said but she found herself listening to more and asking more.

"I love a good story…and this one Mercedes." Bethany shook her head, reveling off of Mercedes apparent curiosity.

"Sam proposed to Quinn?"

"Did he…exactly two months before the Auberry Gala Ball. It was at the annual Fabray-Evans luncheon. I'll never forget because Samuel had come to Mr. Fabray and asked for permission which I was thrilled to hear. I mean they got over the whole Noah and Beth fiasco…I thought Samuel was never going to forgive her but he brought the ring and showed it to me and Charles. My Samuel didn't care about the cost..he wanted everything to be over the top for his Quinn."

Mercedes tried her best to take the story over her head, it was his past and Mercedes and him were not even together. She shouldn't have felt some way about it, the proposal. But she wanted the entire story.

"Immediately after Quinn said yes, I practically called up wedding planners myself to start the event…"

_They were engaged. _It shouldn't have bothered her so much as it did.

"Sam was the happiest I had ever seen him, and we were so close then. I helped with everything except the location." Bethany paused for a moment to take notice of Mercedes flat expression. She couldn't read what Mercedes was feeling and honestly she didn't care, now Mercedes would feel how she felt when her son was taken from her. To have that feeling you aren't so special to them anymore, Bethany wanted Mercedes to feel as if she were a second thought.

"I guess the odds were in your favor deary, because Quinn couldn't go through with it for whatever reason and ended the engagement after a month. Stopping all the plans that were in the works…I wonder if she still has the Giovanni dress. Samuel took it hard, on everything and everyone in his life. He didn't know if he wanted to inherit the company anymore, or stay in Wall Street. But he loved Quinn so much he saw past her betrayal and the pregnancy, Sam still wanted the happy ending with Quinn after everything." She finished, with a small shrug.

"But you were there to pick him up weren't you? At the Gala Ball to ease the pain so he could forget. I guess for that I can thank you…but you were a rebound Mercedes."

"Why are you telling me all of this…why now?" Mercedes finally asked.

Bethany tried to give her the most sincere face she could muster, but it came off as a sly grin.

"As much as I dislike this marriage…you deserve the truth Mercedes. Sam couldn't have his perfect life with Quinn, I mean you saw what he was ready to put behind them to have her. Then you came, truthfully dear I don't think Samuel will ever stop loving Quinn. He may love you, but never as much as he loved her. I'm his mother…I know."

"I don't hate you…as much. But you needed to know what my son was up to before he met you. And by the surprised look and questions he has never told you about his more intimate history with Quinn…wonder why…?" She paused. "To think now they are together working on this new preposition together for the company's future…maybe fate is taking over. And I'm sure my son never told you he was working with Quinn again."

Silence fell between them. "I'm correct again aren't I?." Bethany chimed, but it was time for Mercedes to speak.

"I don't care what you thought they had…I heard the story loud and clear and to me it sounds like they're over and they have been for some time. How do you come up with this…it's…it's.."

"The truth?" Bethany helped her find the word. "Because that's exactly what happened, and if you don't believe me you can ask your dear husband, my son." Bethany nodded to Mercedes when she felt her time with the girl had ended. Retrieving her coat and gloves she slipped them on quickly, her eyes never leaving Mercedes.

"You're disgusting, you see your son is genuinely happy and you want to ruin it by any means necessary because it doesn't include you. I didn't take him from you, you pushed him away…you and Dwight both." Mercedes stood her ground again, she looked the woman over and started to wonder just why did she let her in. "Sam told me all about your little attempts to get Quinn and him together…You've made it known from day one you wanted him to be with her and not me…but guess what? He's not is. Sam has finally found someone that will not manipulate him or betray him the way your precious Quinn has. You've got some fucking nerve if you think a story will change the way I feel about your son. We trust each other with everything, and I will not let you or any one else ruin that, got it?" Mercedes made her way over to door, swinging it open for Mrs. Evans to take her leave.

Which she did take the hint.

Biting down on her bottom lip, Mercedes was trying her best to not let Sam's mother get to her, but blame the hormones she wanted to help the woman to the door herself. Bethany stopped to make another point, however Mercedes beat her to it, holding up her index finger she silenced the woman.

"Sam is not _that_ person anymore. The one you and Dwight spent time and time again shaping to make into this Wall Street guy. That Sam is gone now and you need to accept that. He's his own person now and I met him that night at the Gala Ball, I fell in love with that Sam. I get it, you didn't want him to change, but he's happy now with me. Why can't you be happy for him? You're chasing after this stupid dream that isn't going to come true, it's beyond pathetic Mrs. Evans. I want you to know this person…" Mercedes lowered her voice a bit, placing her hand on her stomach to which Bethany looked down at.

"I want you to be there and watch him or her take their first breath…I _wanted_ them to know they have loving grandparents…." Mercedes gripped the doorknob harder, swallowing down the urgent burning in her throat. She honestly did want to cry at that moment, but not because of what Bethany said.

What Bethany and Dwight would now be missing.

"But now I agree with Sam, I don't want you in our lives anymore. It's sad because I was fighting to have you in our lives. Me…but I'm done fighting for you. I'm tired…no exhausted. I'm done with you…and I hope to never see you again."

Mercedes let go of the door quickly, the slam made the picture frames on the wall shake before settling back into their places. She exhaled loudly before turning on her heels to go into her and Sam's bedroom, her mind still processing what just happened.

* * *

Mercedes looked up at him with sincerity in her eyes. She wiped away her own tears, resting her forehead against his, she closed her eyes.

"To inform me of what you and Quinn were plotting…"

Sam looked at Mercedes this time, to see her reaction and when she didn't say anything he just looked at her.

"I'm not mad…anymore that you're working with Quinn…Sam. I was a bit bothered you didn't tell me I can admit that. You two have a history together.." She frowned at the thought, and Mercedes didn't have time to ask herself why.

"It means nothing to me now…Quinn, the company, my parents…" He started to speak again, carefully looking into her brown eyes he spoke the truth because just then he felt she needed to hear it. It made her smile to hear him say those words and she offered him one, but it didn't reach her eyes and Sam noticed.

"I have Mike running the numbers from what Quinn gave me to make sure everything is legit. If something comes back wrong I'll stop it…all of it and give the money to someone else. I don't want it and frankly I don't care what happens to it." He kissed her forehead before moving to his feet, bring her with him he cupped her face in his hands.

Something else was still bothering him.

"After this I don't want my parents in our lives anymore. I don't want them around our daughter or son or the many…many children in the future." He pecked her cheek, then her other before kissing her the tip of her nose.

"You show my parents so much mercy…and I love that about you…but I can't chance them around our children, I barely got out of there." He chuckled before giving her a pleading look, he was waiting for her to contest the idea because Sam had so many more reason to keep them away. He was shocked when Mercedes stood on her toes to meet him in a quick kiss on the lips.

"I'm not arguing with you. I wanna go back home after this. Back to London, we don't have to see them again." She admitted, a smile at her lips she made Sam laugh. No fighting this time, which meant she was just as tired as he was of his mother's antics. He kissed her again, longer this time just to show her how much he really loved her at this very moment.

"And we will, that I promise you."

* * *

_**Two days later…**_

"I never thought Fabray would do something as stupid fraudulent insider trading…it's messy and easily traceable. I would think Quinn would know better. The concept though, is flawless."

"So what does that mean, will it attack my father?" Sam looked over Mike's shoulder again to see what he was going repeatedly. He was about ninety-three percent sure Quinn knew what she was doing, but then again when Quinn had revenge on the brain she was as reckless and messy as him…only after the deed had been done did she realize her grave mistakes.

"So far, Quinn is hitting the major companies…releasing all of their inside information on the black market which would annihilate all confidentiality. Bank accounts for the taking, account numbers and pin codes all will be visible. There will be so many bail outs." Mike typed in more numbers of Quinn's deal and started to look over Sam's Swiss account balance which was still increasing.

"You gave this much money to Quinn…" He asked, Mike whistled at the zeroes.

"Yeah…I don't…." Sam nodded his head looking away from the monitor, he knew of too many ways he could triple the amounts. "Just get rid of it…work ya magic." He slapped Mike on his shoulder, but somehow found himself wearing the same worried expression Mike now wore.

"Sam…look…seventh name…third column. Shit." Mike picked up a nearby phone and started dialing a new number immediately when he realized one of the companies that would be hit.

"She wouldn't…she fucking wouldn't…" Sam looked at the monitor again before he saw red, Mike didn't have another chance to look at the screen before ripped it from its cords and practically cleared the desk off. As much as Mike wanted to believe and have an ounce of faith in Fabray he saw the name clear as day Jones/Anderson. If Mike didn't figure out a way to stop the transfers of confirmation codes, everything Mr. Jones, Cooper and William Anderson worked for will be gone by tomorrow morning. Mike was retired from Wall street yet slid back into his old ways to find a way to stop such a deal or to get the Jones company out of it completely. He still had friends inside the large banks and they owed him big time from when he saved their asses.

"Can you handle that...?" Sam stopped pacing when the idea popped up in his head. He grabbed his keys and waited for Mike to acknowledge him from the phone call before he left for his next destination. He knew Quinn would be no where near Evans-Fabray with her plan in action and honestly didn't want to see her face. No he wanted his mother, this would be a first he would ever make the effort to find her.


End file.
